


sweet serial killer

by gelukstraan



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Historical References, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Smut, Mermaids, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate AU, Slow Burn, Treasure Hunting, dark themes, michael is a dumbass, plot heavy, siren au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelukstraan/pseuds/gelukstraan
Summary: His voice dripping like honey, the feeling his voice brings similar to the stained red velvet jacket he is wearing. “So, finally I’ve got you where I want you.”The Pirate/Siren AU where Michael is the feared Pirate Captain, and where Mallory is a Siren who needs to eat hearts to survive.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for Millory and I actually really liked it!

The small hands of the child are holding onto the white fabric of his mother’s dress. A strong looking men with a thick black beard holding her arm, his dirty fingers clenching around her sensitive skin. The dark wood creaking beneath their feet, the smell of sweat, rum and blood clenching everywhere. Black sails, ancient wood, they say the ship is as old as its captain.

It is rumored the captain sold his soul to the devil to get infinite life, sailing his hell ship for forever like he is the darkness itself. His prayers not to a god, but to the devil himself. His soul must be as dark as the ship he sails. Wherever the ship goes, despair is all it leaves behind. The streets colored in red whenever his in expensive leather covered feet touch the ground. He looks like an angel, with his long blonde hair, sharp cheekbones and crystal eyes. But he is everything heaven is not.

Full lips smiling when they run away from him. They all feel fear when his cruel face falls upon them. They all know he is no good, they all know he is everything that scares them when night falls. His crew plundering the houses, killing the men, raping the woman. The children are taken as slaves, to be sold elsewhere. He takes no part in his crew shenanigans, he seems to be busy with something else entirely. The cities they burn leave him unsatisfied each time again, his glass eyes never finding what he is looking for. No one knows what treasure he is after, the captain does not often share his thoughts. They only know of his wrath when another raid proofs to be yet another failure. 

It is rumored that he had sold his soul to the devil, but the ones who had survived him knew he was the devil himself.

They are chanting as the captain’s most trusted men pulls the two innocent souls towards the middle of the ship. The crew hungry for blood, ready to demolish the girl in all the ways god has forbidden. Her body trembling under the harsh treatment and their loud words. Her free hand searching for the one of her son, his small fingers clenched around hers. She knows she should be strong, she knows she needs to be strong for her young child. Pushing his head against her belly, her other hand placed upon his ear, so his innocent mind doesn’t hear the foul things the men around them are screaming. No child should feel fear like this, no child should have to be in this situation. Living live on the run, leaving their city when the lasts one burns down. They all wonder what kind of treasure their captain is hunting for, she is the only one who truly knows.

“Who is this whore!” “Let me test her before you give her to the captain!” “We should tear her apart in front of her child!” Voices so loud and many, it’s unclear which sentence belongs to who. The rough laughter of the black bearded men only adding more pressure to her fear. The child is crying now, his tears staining his mother’s dress. Her words soothing, trying to talk his and her own fears away. It’s no use, their foul words are louder than her attempts of calming the both of them down.

Some miss their teeth, some of them a leg. All of his crew is here for a reason, they all believe to find salvation in Satan. Some following his dark path because in him they found a reason to finally do the vile things unpunished. Raping, killing, stealing, it is all justified under the believe of doing what you want. Some follow him because they truly believe in him and what he stands for, some of them are only here to be loyal and watch the world burn at his feet. Not caring if they burn with it, knowing they did everything to help him is enough. They all live for the chaos, all are like chaos itself. Closing in on the three people, nasty promises are being made.

The girl her body almost sinking down on the wood out of fear, as they come closer and closer. Her cheeks stained with tears, her cries silent falling from her mouth.

Loud laughter, as they find rejoice in her despair. They live for this, they live for her fear, they live for how she reacts to their words. And it almost gets too much, her knees falling upon the wood, her child save in her arms, as her fear turns in anger.

She won’t be afraid, she must be strong, she must be tough, for him. For her son. Her mouth opening to scream, her eyes filled with fury.

The sound of his booth on the ancient wood makes her mouth close, her arms clenching around her son in a vain attempt to protect him from the captain. The crew is in silence at once, as their captain finally emerges from his cabin. Like the sea they split for him to see the ones his right hand had caught.

Michael Langdon his smile one of satisfaction as his eyes fall upon his most desired treasure, the ones he had been chasing for what feels like an eternity. His voice dripping like honey, the feeling his voice brings similar to the stained red velvet jacket he is wearing. “So, finally I’ve got you where I want you.”

 

\---

The lavender corset pushes her breast up, a golden locket dangling upon her cleavage. She carries two large glasses filled with beer, the white foam of the drink wetting her hands as she clumsily makes her way through the busy pub. It is not uncommon to do the same work your parents do, it actually is uncommon to do something else. Her parents, British immigrants who had found their way to the Caribbean isles, had opened a bar in the local town. This made their daughter automatically a server in their well visited pub.

“Here you go, two beers.” While placing the two drinks in front of the two men, someone bumps into her. Making her lose balance, spilling some of the drink over the blonde one. She feels her face heating up, the feeling of shame pulsing through her body. She really isn’t the waitress type, with her clumsiness it would be better for her to just stay behind the bar. “Oh, fuck, I am so sorry.” The unlady like word escapes her mouth without her noticing it. Her hand pushed against her mouth after, as both men laugh. The blonde one looks up, his pants wet with beer. He does not really seem to care though, as his handsome face is decorated with an amused smile. “I don’t think I ever heard a lady use a curse word before.” She smiles at his words, the shame flowing away. The two men seem unlike any other men she had ever met. “I guess I am not really a lady.” The blonde his pale eyes scan her face, slowly going down to where the locket hangs. His cheeks coloring red, as he catches himself looking at her cleavage. “You do look like a lady.” The man accompanying the blonde boy has a black beard, he looks like the rough type. “Just a commoner, I am afraid. Let me get the both of you another drink.” She feels awkward under his praise, wanting to get away from them as fast as possible.

“Let me help you.” The blonde one is already standing up before she can refuse. He follows her to the bar, leaning against the yellow wood as he watches her pour another drink. “What is your name?” he asks, his head laying upon his hand. “You can call me Clumsy.” Not willing to share her real name with this stranger, no matter how handsome he is. He laughs, not offended by her secretive words. “I am Michael, and my friend is called Cornelis Mead.” With a kind smile she gives Michael his beer.

“It was nice meeting you, Michael.” His brows are furrowed after her words, he is not used at being rejected. Normally girls fall like dominos whenever he talks to them, they are all willing to glue themselves against him in the desperate attempt to get his attention.

Michael knows he is pretty, knows he is lucky with how he looks. But this strange foul lady does not seem to care. “Till how late is your shift?” He asks, not wanting to leave this interesting girl behind. “I don’t have a time, my parents own the bar.” This gives Michael an idea. “Why don’t you join us for a drink then? I am paying.” Her smile broad, as she leans on the bar as well. “And what if I order the most expensive drink we serve?” Her face mere inches away from his, he can almost smell the soap in her hair. “I promised to pay, and if that is what you want, then that is what you get.”

His body pressing hers against the dirty bricks of the wall. Their faces barely visible in the darkness of the alley beside the pub. The screaming of drunk people fading away, as the night slowly becomes the morning. He kisses her when the sky turns grey and the shadows grow larger. Tasting the expensive wine she had been ordering throughout the night on her tongue. Eyes closed, as the sweetness of her becomes one with the bitterness of him. The pure girl melting under his touch as ice melts when it is exposed to fire. The small moans she produces when his mouth bruises the skin of her throat are making him weak. His touch making her want to give in to everything her parents forbade her to do. His name on her lips, as his teeth scrape against her skin. “Do you give yourself to me, Clumsy?” Michael may be a pirate, but he will not take this girl without her permission. Her eyes shifting from his blue eyes to the street on their right. The small spark of doubt in her eyes gone when she sees the pleading look in his eyes. “My name is Mallory.” She tells him. “ _And_ _yes_ , you may have me.”

He is gentle with her their first time. Getting her wet and needy before he takes what he wants. Slowly filling her, his pace as gentle as the water scribbling against the ship. Her back arched, as he gives her pleasure so sinfully sweet it makes him wonder if he really is the devil child they all say him to be.

He has her until she is so adjusting to the size of him it takes only a few pushes for her to scream. He has her until the sun is high in the sky and the crew wakes up from her screaming. He has her until her voice is hoarse and he had heard his name coming so much from her mouth it will be stored for forever in his memories. And when she leaves, sharing the same fucked out glow, they promise each other they will see each other again.

But he never does, months later when he comes back for her, she is not there. Her parents refusing to speak her name, as the whispers call her a disgrace. They tell him she ran away with a local man, refusing to be bound to the future her parents had set up for her. Michael feels real rage for the first time then, the feeling of betrayal souring his love for her. A rage sweeping through his body, because his most precious treasure got stolen away from him. He vows to himself he will find her, vows he will burn everything until he has her again. The rage not cooling down as he start his hunt based on the whispers where they saw her last. He will find her, he will make her regret leaving. No one gets to break Michael Langdon’s heart unpunished.

 

\---

 

 _“So, finally I’ve got you where I want you.”_  The captain his cold eyes burning into hers as he slowly walks her way. Like an animal ready to attack his wounded easy prey he circles her. Watching how she holds her child, the shuddering of her body. He can smell her fear, taste it on his tongue even. The heavy sweet taste of her he had almost forgotten about clouding his senses. Her child looks like her, he wears the same expressions. He owns the same beauty his mother had used to seduce Michael. In everything her son is like her, expect the eyes. Wet with tears and filled with fear, they still stare bravely into the captain eyes. The corners of his mouth curling into a cruel smile as the realization washes over his dark soul as he stares at her son.

Michael finally makes up his mind, his heart aching with just the thought of her leaving him. Of her denying him, she deserves what is coming, she deserves every moment of torture he will bring upon her. He stops in front of her, looking down at her pathetic almost crying form. She must finally realize that what she did will not be accepted. She got caught up in her own game, Michael has her where she doesn’t want to be. “Bring the child to me.” His voice empty of emotions, his facial expression mirroring his tone. She does not deserve to know how he truly feels.

What follows is a scream, her voice clear and echoing against the wood. The laughter of his crew follows as she tries to keep her child with her in a weak attempt. Cornelis Mead is stronger than her, he pulls without much effort the boy away from her arms. The child in front of him is skinny and shaking out of fear, his bones visible beneath skin. A life on the run did not treat this boy kindly. Michael his smile is cold, as he looks down on her sons form. “Bring him to my cabin and make sure he eats.” He nods at Cornelis, the boy struggling and fighting his grip. Screaming for his mother’s name as the captains most trusted man takes him to the cabin. His crying still audible, even when the doors close.

“So, that leaves me to you.” Slowly he walks to her, surprised to see the anger in her eyes. He can hear the beating of her heart, throbbing against her ribs as if it wants to get out. “What are you going to do to my son?” She spits the words out, the tone of her voice one of fury. “If I were you I’d be more worried about what is going to happen to you.” Her body slinking in relief. As if he gave her the best news she could receive. “As if you scare me, _devil child_.”

He wants to keep her, he really does, but he knows she would soften his heart. And that is not something he likes. “Stand up.” She does not listen to him, stubborn she keeps sitting on her knees, her doe like eyes challenging him to do something about it.

His hand around her arm, pulling her up with a force she can’t fight. His face close to hers, her breathing rapid and hot on his face. “If only you listened, if only you were obedient.” The hand that is not holding her arm grabs her face, pulling it towards his.

His mouth roughly pressed against hers, stealing the kiss with force. For a couple seconds she lets him steal the kiss, almost leaning into him. But she changes her mind, as she still can hear the crying of her son. Her teeth sinking in his bottom lip, drawing blood from him. With a moan he pulls away, his tongue licking the blood from his lips. He is not really mad, amused even at her for trying to fight him. 

Mallory her lips stained red with his blood, her eyes still angry. She does not like the smile he gives her, does not like the deadly promise the glint in his eyes give her.

The white fabric of the dress waves in the wind, as she walks the plank. The untamed sea beneath her seems to be calling for her, licking his blood from her lips. The metallic taste of it in her mouth. The taste of him will be the last thing on her tongue, the echoes of her sons crying the last thing she hears. Falling into the water, as she steps from the wood. Her body going underwater, the heavy fabric of her dress pulling her down. And as she dies, the only thing on Mallory her mind is revenge.

Michael doesn’t even stay to watch her walk the plank, leaving her alone with his chanting crew. Instead he goes to the boy in his cabin. Finding the familiar pale blue of his own eyes in the boy’s face.

He may look a lot like her, but the eyes are all Michael.


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ones who die at sea with a bitter heart, a lust for revenge and a tragic past all turn out the same. Murderous creatures with a different name in every folklore. Sirens, mermaids, you name it. Neither of the descriptions come close enough to what they are. For no words will ever be able to describe the cruelty of their empty hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to be a second chapter filled with smut, has become a whole lotta plot and setting up. I have not given up on this story yet, and I hope the lot of you haven’t as well.

Lonely the ship lays still in the calm ocean. Moonlight shining through the small holes of what once was white but now is grey sails. The heavy breathing of the sleeping crew proof of the long day they had. Unknowing that the oxygen in their lungs will be there for the last time in a few moments.  
  
The wood creaks beneath her bare feet and his booted. Her dress is white and wet. Her breast visible through the fabric, doe eyes afraid and searching for a way out. Cheeks rosy, her face beaten by the bearded man’s cruel hand. She is a true beauty, stolen away from her parents when she was just a child. She tries to soothe her angry heart with the sounds of the ocean. Brown eyes closing, as she gets dragged to his cabin to be raped again.

The Mead bloodline always had been a cruel one, their souls bounded to the eternal captain of darkness itself. Cornelis Mead always had found pride in the fact that he, like his father and his grandfather before him were destined to serve Michael Langdon. The curse the devil had bestowed upon the bloodline only asked for the first born of each generation to serve. Cornelis Mead, however, is not the first born Mead. He was the youngest of the bunch actually.

Cornelis Mead his father, William Mead, had not been a kind man. He had managed to plant four sons in three different woman during his with cruelty filled life.

Cornelis was born to a Dutch woman called Mirjam. She had been his father’s last and probably favourite wife. She bore him two sons. She gifted both of her sons with Dutch names, to honour her father who had been a sailor for the _Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie_ , or as the world got to know them, the Dutch East India Company.

Jan-Piet had been the eldest of William’s two youngest children. The first of William’s children who actually bore the significant Mead look. He was born with a mop of dark black hair and very clear blue eyes. A broad nose and thin lips. He looked so much like his father, William began to question if the other two sons were truly his.

His first son, Sebastian, born to a French lady of the night was a beautiful boy with a tender heart. Blonde curls, dark brown eyes, freckled skin. He was more gifted with his words than with a sword. A fact William had discovered with much regret in his heart. This was not the son he wanted to give the captain he so prideful served. He wanted to give his blonde god (or devil) something darker. Something that fits within the captain’s world. Sebastian clearly did not. He had felt no regret when he had killed his son, he had only felt annoyed, as the weeping screams of Sebastian’s mother had hurt his ears.

His second son had killed his mother during his birth. A fact William Mead had taken pride in, his son had came into this world a murderer, a truer Mead could not have existed. William had named his child after his own father because of this particular event. His second son named Anthony, was the apple to his father’s eye, until Jan-Piet was born.

And even though in appearance Anthony did look nothing like his father, he was just as rotten as him.

His younger brother, Jan-Piet, had been born only a year after him, but in many ways Anthony had always been his superior. Jan-Piet and Anthony could not have been more different than night and day. With Jan-Piet bearing his father’s looks, but his mother’s kindness and Anthony being a copy of his own mother, but with his father’s personality  they indeed were very different.

A fact that had frustrated Anthony to no end. Making its mission to torture his younger brother to the grave. If it was out of the jealousy because Jan-Piet did resembled his father, or the fact he owned a cruel heart would always remain a question. Cornelis always thought it was a bit of both.

Cornelis had loved his older brother so much, it took him no second thought to kill the one who murdered him. He was the one who found his mother crying over the cold body of her eldest son. He was the one who had to stop his mother from killing her husband for not caring enough about Jan-Piet’s death.

William had killed his beloved brother as much as his half-brother had in Cornelis his eyes. When William left to train Anthony for a life of being the servant to the devil, Cornelis had stayed behind with Mirjam. With age he grew stronger and more cunning. And when his father returned to his still grieving mother to create more heirs, it had been very easy for Cornelis to kill William.

Anthony was next, Cornelis had killed him the same was as his beloved brother was killed. A knife to the heart while he was asleep. And with every Mead gone, Cornelis was the one forced to serve Michael until his dying day.

\--

Michael may be a product of the devil, Cornelis Mead was the first one to see Michael also was a person of his own. He had cherished this person, enjoyed this person. Cornelis was the first one to not serve Michael, but to stand beside him. He considered himself to be the father Michael never really had, but always had ached for. Michael deserves the world, and Cornelis saw it as his job to provide him this. He would stop at nothing, Michael couldn’t afford distractions in his path of destruction and concurring _._

 _The end justifies the means._ Even it meant breaking his beloved master’s heart. The stupid town girl had done what no one had done before. Create a spark of hope in the blue of his eyes. Like a lovesick teenager Michael had given her his heart after only one night.

Something Cornelis will never understand, love is for the weak after all. Blood is thicker than water, and Cornelis never bothered to learn the second part of the saying. Michael was the only family he had needed and wanted after his mother’s death.

Cornelis, not unlike his father, is obsessed with creating the perfect Mead to serve the one he considers his salvation. Cornelis had loved Michael in a different way than all the other Mead’s had.

He only had a daughter now, the girl still too young to serve the devil. Cornelis, like every men, prefers sons above daughters anyway. But all the woman he had laid (or forced himself upon, to be clearer) with, either had given him still born children, or were killed before they could deliver for what he had used them. He had hoped this younger girl could give him what the others could not. But until present day, she proofed herself to be incapable of bearing his so much desired son. Would he die now, it would mean for Miriam Mead to be the last one of her line.

Zoe Benson learned a long time ago it had no use for her to fight him, to cry or to even make a sound at all. He would do to her what he did to her since she flowered for the first time. She was twelve when she had been stolen away from her loving parents, thirteen when she bled for the first time. That night Cornelis his cock had been covered with her blood for the first time. Her throat had been covered with bruises for the first time as well.

She stopped her crying when she turned fourteen, all the hope of being saved gone. He visits her once a month, to take what isn’t his.

But this night is different, tragedy is about to happen when a navy ship spots the unauthorized ship.  The cabin door just opened when the first canon strikes. Waking up everyone, the still awake crew scream for their lives when the attack starts.

Cornelis Mead is lucky enough to survive the bloodbath, but many are not as fortunate as he is.

Zoe her stomach is gutted by a knife, her hands pushing against the wound to stop it from bleeding. There is fighting everywhere, canon’s are destroying the ship. Zoe tries to avoid every man, another canon hits. Wood splinters, the impact blowing Zoe away.

She falls into the water with maybe five other men.

He arms stretched towards the surface, eyes wide open, the white dress floating around her like a cloud. And when her back hits the rocks, something changes. Her eyes see the tails of maybe fifty creatures she only knows from fairytales. Blood dark in the greenish water when they murder what falls from the ship. It’s the most beautiful thing she ever witnessed, her eyes finally seeing everything.

She should have died by now, but the myths are true.

The ones who die at sea with a bitter heart, a lust for revenge and a tragic past all turn out the same. Murderous creatures with a different name in every folklore. Sirens, mermaids, you name it. Neither of the descriptions come close enough to what they are. For no words will ever be able to describe the cruelty of their empty hearts.

\--

It’s been ten years since Mallory suffered the same faith. Michael’s plan had backfired in the best way. Mallory her death not only making her stronger, but giving her a new purpose as well. Revenge, murder, betrayal. But she does not wish to hurt Michael _yet_ , for he is still the father of their son. And as long as he lives, she will not hurt him.

Every summer she returns to the place where she grew up, to live amongst the humans like she doesn’t eat their hearts to survive. Every summer she returns to the place of her human life to meet the last thing that binds her to it.

He had been her beacon of hope, the last of humanity that remained within her. Her darling son, who looks so much like her in every way. From the way he smiles to the colour of his hair. His nature sweet and gentle, his heart big enough to forgive both his father and mother. His mother for only being able to see him once a year, his father for binding his mother to this cruel faith.

He is so unlike how his father is now, but so much like the boy Mallory had loved all those years ago.

She pushes his long hair behind his ears, his blue eyes are shining in the sun. He is only seventeen, but already taller than Mallory. His hair smells like salt and oil when he nuzzles his face into the creek of her neck. His skin tanned from the sun, but also dirtied from living on the sea. “I missed you, mom. A year is way too long.”

Her hands stroke his back, Mallory her dark eyes are closed. “I know, but your father mustn’t know I am still alive, Ezra.”

The boy leans back, watching his mother’s face. “They’re coming here. Cornelis apparently managed to put a baby into a poor woman’s womb.” Mallory her eyes narrow after her son’s words. She has not forgotten he was the one who had caught them. Cornelis Mead deserves to die and Mallory knows she wants to be the one to give him death.

“It does not matter, I won’t let our time together be cut short because of his arrival. We’ll have to be careful.” Ezra smiles after her words, white teeth showing. “I have so much to tell you! We sailed to through the Caribbean where I swam with sea turtles almost as tall as I am!” A fond smile is decorating Mallory her delicate face, as she listens to her son’s adventures. Her arm wrapped around his shoulder, his around hers, as they walk in the direction of the world of the living again.

\--

Michael closes his eyes, he tries to focus upon the sounds of the waves only. Not wanting to be distracted by memories and feelings that should have been erased years ago. Its night, the most of his crew is sleeping. A few unlucky ones are still scrubbing wood that never will be clean. This ship is designed to bring punishment and punishment only. The souls Michael collects are never the pure ones.

All Michael does is hunt, for treasures and lost souls. The first one being the reason he sails for the island where his heart once got broken. Michael does not want to revisit the feelings from so long ago, but this mission makes him revisit them anyway. He does not speak her name, does not even think of it. But every day he finds her still. Isn’t it in the face of his son, is it in one of his treasure hunts.

In his right hand Michael holds what remains of a papyrus roll. The words written upon the yellow fabric are in an almost death language. Weren’t it for the fact Michael needs to find a translator, he would never have set foot on this dreaded island ever again.

He allows his son to visit the place his mother grew up. He does not want to be the kind of father to deprive its child from its freedom. He will come back to him anyway. Michael vowed to himself to never revisit the place. Vowed to never search out for something that reminds him of _her_.

But he has to now, for this treasure is unlike all the other treasure he ever sailed for.

For this treasure he will sail the world, for this treasure he will concur all of his fears. Michael knows this treasure will cause death, trouble and despair. But for this treasure he is willing to endure it all.

Michael promised his crew more gold and riches than they could ever imagine. But all he actually does is lure them into an uncertain faith with golden promises. Michael does think there will be gold, diamonds and everything shiny. But all that Michael wishes to find is _time_.

Time itself, bottled away for the ones with the strongest souls. To possess time, to control what no one else can. Michael intends to use it only once. He only wants one thing; to erase all the hurt, to prevent it from happening even. Michael wishes to change time, so he will never have to remember her again.

\--

Mallory watches how the black bearded man pulls a young girl with him towards the beach. Cornelis Mead does not age well, his tummy fat with living too generous. His smell so vile it leaves a bitter taste on her tongue. His skin looks like dried up leather, beard filled with pieces of meat from the meal he had before, his hair thin and filled with grey streaks.

No, Cornelis Mead does not age well. The sight of him almost makes Mallory want to snicker out of amusement. Look at her, bashing his looks when the only thing that matters is the inside. Quit literally, it’s been a while since Mallory had eaten; and the sight of Cornelis Mead makes her hungry.

Mallory pulls up her skirt to follow the unfortunate pair to the beach.

“Cornelis Mead.” Mallory her voice interrupts his unholy deed. The young girl lying beneath him is crying, but Mallory pays her no attention. “It’s time to pay for your wrong doings.” Mallory her voice is strong and calm, her head slightly tilled. The man clumsily climbs from the girl, his dirty blouse is hanging open. The skin of his chest is covered in thick black hair, his fat stomach exposed.

“Town girl?” Cornelis squints his eyes when he tries to take her face in. Mallory her smile is bright, her sharp teeth shining in the moonlight. “The one and only.”

“How can you still be alive?” Cornelis actually looks frightened. It brings Mallory joy, to be the one in control. Her smile is filled with danger, the ache she has for his heart growing with each step she takes closer to him. The poor girl next to him is shaking, her dress torn apart.

Mallory her eyes stay on the girl. “Leave, or die.” She tells her. Mallory prefers the heart of men, but if needed she will eat the girl’s one as well.

The girl does not need to be told twice, she runs from the couple, leaving the two alone in a silence.

“Die? As if you can kill me, you are just a weak girl. You are a ghost, you are death. If you truly were alive you would not look this young.” Mallory smiles again, she can see the panic rising in his blue eyes. “If you say so…”

She is now so close she can feel his heat, hear the blood rushing through his body. She can smell the delicious smell of blood, she can no longer take it; the hunger masters her.

With claws as sharp as her teeth, she attacks him. Letting them sink into the skin of the black bearded man. Thin lips dirtied with blood, as she sucks it from his throat. Slim fingers tangled up in veins, when she rips open his chest to get to what she needs the most. Her hand crawled around the dying heart, wetting her dress with blood when she brings the organ to her mouth. Eyes pools of darkness, sounds of hungry swallowing for no one but the now death rapist to hear.

Cornelis Mead had it coming and Mallory knows who will get it next. To taunt him, to drive him insane. She had not seen his face yet, but the satisfaction that lies within killing his most trusted advisor is enough to fulfill a different kind of ache.

\--

They all watch the captain, and so does his son. Ezra does not understand why his father weeps angry tears when he finds the head of his first man on the deck. The old wood stained with Cornelis’s blood. The way the liquid shines in the sun reminds Ezra of the rubies that had decorated his mother’s throat.

He had _hated_ Cornelis Mead, he exactly knows who is behind his death, and he finds rejoice in it. Cornelis Mead might have been the father figure Michael needed, he was anything but that for Michael’s son. Cornelis only saw in him what Michael wishes to avoid. He only sees the girl who made his master soft. But Cornelis had forgotten Mallory was also the one who had unleashed the beast.

His mother had told him what really had happened seventeen years ago. Cornelis had found her and threatened everyone she held dear. To break Michael’s heart to keep her own. It was a price she was willing to pay, with her tummy not swollen enough for Cornelis to see the truth.

Ezra always knew it wasn’t his life to take, but he had wished to do so. How good things could have been if Cornelis hadn’t felt the need to threaten his mother. They could have been a real family. There would be no secrets, there would be only them.

He loves them both; he wouldn’t be able to choose between the two of them. Michael despite never having a real father figure was not a bad father to Ezra. He loves his son, the cruel captain always turns soft when it comes to him. Sometimes he thinks it is because he is so much like how his mother used to be. Michael did love Mallory, and the love he had for her is not one that is easily forgotten. No matter how hard Michael pretends it is.

He hates Cornelis, does not regret his death. Ezra even wishes he had been there to see what his mother did. He watches how Michael orders his crew around. They need to find out who did this, someone has to pay. Ezra knows the will not find the one who did it, a secret smile playing on his face when he looks away.

Instead he turns his attention upon the black haired girl standing next to him.

Even though he hates her father, he does not hate Miriam Mead. He takes her hand, squeezing it a little. Miriam does not cry, she merely blinks her eyes at the sight of her father’s head. “I guess you will be the new Mead to serve my father.” Ezra comments. Miriam rolls her eyes, letting go of the captain’s son hand.

“I never thought I would have to. I always knew my father would kill me as soon as a son was born.” Miriam is ten years Ezra’s senior, but they practically grew up together. “My father is not that terrible, I don’t think he really expects a thing except your loyalty.”

Miriam sighs, turning her back on her father’s decapitated head. “I wonder what will happen if won’t bear children.” Miriam bites her lip, looking around her as if she’s afraid to be heard. Ezra understands her fear, with a father like that, who would ever trust men again?

He takes her hand again, pulling her with him to leave the ship and its chaos. “He is the son of the devil, if there no longer are Mead’s, the devil himself will see to it. There are always new bloodlines to be doomed.” Miriam smiles after Ezra’s words, letting herself pull away from the blood thirsty screams of the dammed souls Michael likes to collect.

“Where are you taking me?” Ezra gives her a smile. “A place to celebrate.”

\--

Michael finds his new first man (or woman, he corrects himself) at the bar where he had met _her_ for the first time. Ezra is nowhere to be seen; but Miriam Mead seems to be able to take care of herself.

The barn is no longer owned by her parents, but the inside still looks like it did seventeen years ago.

Michael sits down next to the girl, he watches how she drowns the liquid from her glass. Michael wasn’t the only one who lost a loved one. Miriam Mead had lost her father and now she is forced to serve Michael until her death. Michael does not really feel pity for her having to serve him; but he does feel bad for her loss.

“He never really prepared me for it.” Miriam suddenly tells him. Michael shrugs, watching the last Mead with interest. Miriam Mead always has been around, Michael knows she and Ezra are friends. He likes her too, he likes her honesty. So unlike the other Mead’s who only said what he had wanted to hear.

“You can serve me however you see fit to serve me. As long as you are truthful I will not expect too much.” Michael says. He does not really need a servant, he rather has someone to be his friend. He needs someone he can trust, someone who will have his back.

And Miriam Mead might not be prepared for the job, she is still a Mead. She smiles, her blue eyes shining because of it. “You know I never lie, captain Langdon.”

Michael smiles, his hand in the air. Gesturing a waitress to come their way. “You might as well call me Michael now.”

The young girl who serves the drinks is even younger than when _she_ still served here. “Two of whatever she’s having.” He tells her, not bothering to look her in the eye. Instead he watches the last Mead. “So, where is my son?”

Miriam shrugs, “He told me he had to meet some girl.” Michael frowns, he did not know his son was having affairs upon the land. He never really talked with Ezra about girls anyway, because Michael does not really care for them. He only cares to get what he wants, and all he wants is to forget.

“Maybe he will bring her here as well. He told me he would come back.”

Michael takes the drinks from the girl. “Well, let’s hope he has some fun then.”

\--

Much later Ezra enters the barn with a girl. Michael does not notice at first, but when Miriam Mead bumps his shoulder to let him know his son had returned, he does.

He does not really watch the girl, only seeing his son’s joyful expression. Ezra reminds Michael so much of his younger self at times. Only when he sees his son laughing about something the girl said, he watches her.

His heart skips a beat, he holds in his breathe. They’re like two droplets of water. The same smile, the same facial expression, the same hair colour. They could have been twins, weren’t it for the fact it was impossible.

And when her eyes fall into Michael’s, the world seems to fall to pieces. Her eyes dark and filled with everything he longs to forget.

“ _Mallory_.” Michael breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jan-Piet and Cornelis are both Dutch names. I chose Jan-Piet because it's mentioned in a Dutch song/rhyme about seaman with beards. (Al die willen te kaap'ren varen). 
> 
> VOC (East Indian Company) was founded in 1602. It existed until 1798. This story is set around 1760ish I think. I am being a self insert with mentioning it, but I just love Dutch history too much lol. 
> 
> Mermaids by Hans Zimmer really helped me finding love and inspiration for this fic once again. Most of this fic is written with that song playing as a background. (Expect the Michael parts, for which I listened to the song Calypso to get in the mood. I mean, Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack really fits with this story) 
> 
> Thank you all for bearing with me, their story will be written. Even if it's going slow.


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tick, tock, tick, tock, a race against the clock. Time is all you have, but it will never be enough. For immortality they all hunt, but only the ones with bitter on their tongue and blood in their stomach get what’s longed for. Find the treasure in what you ache to forget; find the sweet in the bitter. For tears of a love not so lost, will set you free.”

She is like one of those paintings that is better to be viewed from afar. Up close its beauty is limited to people who enjoy imperfections only. Her smile from afar, when your mind does not know her that well, may seem kind. But once you get too close, you’ll feel how sharp her teeth actually are.

Michael has witnessed firsthand how destructive she can be. She was first one to break his heart after all. And for what? Michael supposed the reason she fled was their son. The shame of their unholy rendezvous resulting in him must have been too much. Maybe she had heard about the whispers, sometimes Michael wishes her heart had been forgiving. She seemed to be so emphatic, the one who might truly understand him. The love she had given him that night had felt heaven send.

Michael always knew he had been a product of hellfire. But Lucifer used to be Samuel and the youthful optimist inside him had hoped for god to see through his father’s mistakes.

He had tried to be good, _god_ , he had tried so hard to be good. Guiding lost souls to the underworld, it is not a job he likes. But it is something that needed to be done. He truly believed he deserved to be punished for his father’s sins.

When he met Mallory he naively thought he had found his shot at redemption. The final clue that he indeed was nothing like his father. Because if a creature with a heart as pure as hers, could find love for him, didn’t that mean he had something good within him as well?

But her departure had left Michael drowning in blue coloured thoughts. Bringing him back to a harsh reality he hadn’t want to face for many years. Pure evil does not get redemption, his soul had been unholy this whole time. He was just too weak to see what he was. Insanity fills his mind, if god wanted to be cruel, he would give it cruelty in return. Give what you get and you shall never feel guilt again.

To Michael she’s like the rotting front teeth of one of his crew’s latest additions. Something that should have been pulled out a long time ago. His thoughts about her should have been exorcised from his head the day he had killed her. He had his revenge, he took her son ( _our son_ , Michael immediately corrects himself.) He had his crew kill her, he didn’t even stay to watch. She died with the thought of Michael taking her child.

She probably did not know Michael knew he was his as well. He had hoped she had died with fear, he had hoped she had died with her heart broken. For her to only feel a fraction of the pain Michael had felt, was all he longed for. For her to finally understand how much she had hurt him.

This girl looks like Mallory, but it can’t be her. The real Mallory had died a long time ago, this is just his mind playing tricks upon its self. Maybe he shouldn’t have drank the rum young Miriam Mead had offered him.

Her eyes had left Michael’s face, instead she concentrates on his son again. Ezra laughs about something she whispers into his ear. Michael wants to walk their way, to demand his son of answers he does not need to give him. Michael understands, his son has urges as well. His son deserves to find love, to father children of his own. Michael wishes for nothing but happiness for Ezra. Not only because Michael is the father, but because he is _hers_ as well. A part of her will always be with him; he is the last of her. Michael does not want think about it why that is so important to him. She is all he wants to forget, but still he so desperately hangs on the memory of her.

Miriam Mead interrupts his thoughts. “A gentleman told me to tell you that it is waiting for you in the forest where lights turn into darkness.” Miriam her blue eyes are filled with curiosity when she tells Michael this small message. Michael nods to himself. He must not forget he is here for one reason only. “Then I must depart. Make sure Ezra returns to ship when he’s done amusing himself.” Michael does not want Ezra wandering around town tonight. Tonight he needs his son to be where no harm can fall upon him. “Use force when he does not want to listen. He cannot be on the loose tonight.” Miriam Mead her eyes narrow, but then she accepts his order. “Will do, captain.” Michael gives her a tight smile. “Don’t wander around too long tonight as well, Miriam. I don’t want to lose another Mead this soon.”

\--

She can feel every atom in her body scream for him. To be near him, to seduce him, to take what she took so many times before. Her mouth fills with poison, she can feel her predator teeth grow, they’re hurting the inside of her mouth. Her fingers curl into fists, when she tries to keep them from turning into claws.

An unexpected warmth fills her belly when their eyes meet. The blue so like her son’s, but so different at the same time. He looks sick; nauseous almost. His face becomes pale when he recognizes her. He looks exactly how he looked last time they saw each other. His sharp cheekbones golden in the candle lights, his long hair falls over his shoulders.

She forces herself to turn her attention away from him. “I can’t believe what they did to this place.” She whispers into her son’s ear. He laughs at this, they watch the drunk sailors sitting at the round table in front of them. When she watches Michael again he’s standing up. Leaving the last Mead lonely at their table. Where is he going? Ezra mentioned something about a treasure, maybe he got a lead? Mallory needs to know what he is hunting for. She needs to know why he came back to _her_ island. So she tells Ezra she needs to go as well.

She follows the captain through dark alleys and dimmed streets. She watches him stamp through puddles of dirty water and how he bumps into people who don’t clear the path for him. She follows him until they’re at the place where civilization meets forest. The leaves of the palm trees rustle with the summer breeze. It’s dark outside the village, the moon not bright enough to penetrate through the leaves. But Michael continues his track anyway. He walks upon the path that will lead him to the volcano that’s the center of the island.

Mallory is not sure what he expects to find in the forest. She never walked the path they’re walking now before. As a child she was never allowed to leave the safety of the village. As a teenager she never cared to be lured by the dangers. She knew this is where couples would go to find some privacy, but she also knows often only one of them returned. Young Mallory had thought it to be the forest’s curse. Adult Mallory had known it was the cruelty of man that fell upon the ones that did not return.

The hooded burgundy cloak hides his golden hair. A pity, Mallory always had loved his hair. Even now when she rather sees him dead than alive. She guesses it is not a sin to admit he is handsome. She used to be in love with him, she supposes it’s only natural for her to still see the things that once made her attracted to him. They’re surrounded by silence and Mallory knows there is something terrible about to happen. What is he searching for? Why is he here?

Her eyes stay on her prize. A breeze carries his smell her way. The sweet smell of corruption, a mixture of his dark heart and immortality.  Her mouth waters, claws are forming because of it. Killing him will be hard, she knows this. He is the eternal captain of the waters. The son of the devil, the bringer of the end. But it will be sweet, to eat his heart. To watch the life fade away from his eyes. For him to realize he cannot end everyone, that she will be the one that will end him. Her body feels ablaze, he is starting to walk slower.

She is getting closer and closer, close enough she can taste him on her tongue. She promised herself to wait until Ezra is no longer there; but Michael smells so good. It is all she wants, to devour him like the meal he is. She can always tell Ezra that Michael got killed in the woods by some sort of beast.

She can have him _now_ , she can touch him, taste him. _Feel him._ She is so close, she is ready to attack ready to take what is hers _._ In the dark her reached out hand is white like death. Her thin fingers almost corpse like. Her body tightens, her muscles making itself ready to attack. But when she is to do about just that, Michael disappears.

The dark path empty, his smell still lingers in the air. Her gasp is loud, her eyes wide; when she can feel sanity return to her.

\--

Eyes are lighting up like they’re the moon. The silver glow illuminating the cave to where he fell.

The clicking sounds of teeth make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The ones guarding the Anansi won’t attack him as long as he does not act like a threat. He is not here to end the eight legged god, he is here to for its help.

The tunnel in front of him is dark, but the presence of ancient magic lures Michael in anyway. One wrong movement and he will unleash the beasts, he must be very careful.

Dried up bones shatter beneath his boots when he walks through the dark. Michael does not know if it are the remains of animals or humans. It probably is both. The Anansi is not an unknown myth at the islands, he is sure even white people must have heard about the clever god by now. But not many know the rules when it comes to meeting the ageless spider.

Michael wonders how many humans had found there end here.

Michael stops in his tracks when he exists the tunnel again. He looks up to the night sky, the moon much brighter here than it had been in the forest. It looks like some weird hallway, a perfect circle surrounded by five openings. The rocky walls are covered with webs, upon the ground lays the dusty remains of humans too curious for their own wellbeing.

Michael supposes each entrée will bring him to something or someone. His eyes find the sky again, he does not know where to go. He thought the beast would find him; but he also knows that gods get bored.

“Devil child.” The voice of the Anansi is deep like all ancients voices are. Michael turns his gaze away from the night sky. He looks straight into the black eyes of the giant spider.

Its long legs are covered with black hairs, its six eyes are weakly reflecting the moonlight. Its fangs are dripping with milky venom, Michael takes a step back when one drop of it falls very closely to his feet. It burns the bones away, the smoke that comes from it smells like hell.

“I am here to ask for wisdom.” Michael keeps looking in its eyes. “Are you willing to pay the price?” Michael nods, he is willing to pay it all. The spider clicks it fangs, another drop of poisonous liquid falls to the ground. Michael wonders what it knows; and more important if it will share. “This price will be everything.” Michael shrugs. “Everything is what I am willing to pay.” The Anansi comes closer, Michael needs to look up to still be able to watch it in the eyes. And when it speaks again, it’s the voice of all that knows.

“Tick, tock, tick, tock, a race against the clock. Time is all you have, but it will never be enough. For immortality they all hunt, but only the ones with bitter on their tongue and blood in their stomach get what’s longed for. Find the treasure in what you ache to forget; find the sweet in the bitter. For tears of a love not so lost, will set you free.” Michael frowns, why do they always feel the need to speak in riddles? “Find a home that will cease to exist and you will find time. For everything burns, but only what spews hurts.”

“Where can I find it?” Michael speaks, he hopes for it to at least give an answer to this. The spider does not laugh, but its voice is amused.

“Sail where your heart demands you to sail.”

\--

Ezra is bored, after his mother had left him to follow his father, Miriam Mead had told him to go back to the ship. He had listened, following the Langdon loyalist back to their ‘home.’ They ended up watching the stars, not really speaking. He has a feeling Miriam does not wish to be alone this night. With her father rotting away beneath some sheets only a few meters away he does not think it weird.

Miriam never was one to talk about her feelings, but Ezra is emphatic enough to know she is hurting. He gives her the flask filled with liquid he stole from Michael’s hut. “Here, it burns at first; but my father really has the best liquid.” Miriam takes the flask from the blonde boy. Sighing loudly before taking a sip.

“Do you like traveling around with your father? Don’t you want to settle down with someone you love? The girl you brought to the tarn was really lovely looking.” Ezra snorts loudly, not being able to hide his amusement. ‘She is more like family.” He takes his father’s flask back from Miriam. “Do you look forward to serving my father?” Ezra takes a gulp from the drink.

“Dying would be easier. I don’t dislike Michael; but it feels cruel to push something upon me for which I did not ask.” Miriam does not look him in the eye, instead she stubbornly keeps watching the night sky. Ezra nods to himself. “My father did not ask to be the devil’s son either. But it’s cruel indeed.”

Miriam watches him now, hesitation shadows her face. “Your father killed your mother, how can you still love him? He did cruel things, but you are still here.” Her words are spoken so softly Ezra needs to lean in closer to hear them. “Because I know my mother loved him too. There must be something good within him. I can see it in the way he treats me, in the way he sometimes pretends to not care.” They both stay silent for a while.

“I hated my father, but I still mourn him. I don’t mind him being dead, but still it feels empty to no longer have him here.” Ezra hands the last Mead the flask again. “He was your father, its okay to mourn him. Everything will be alright eventually, Miriam. I will be here too, you don’t have to do this alone.” He can hear her swallow. “I wanted to ask Michael to send his remains to Holland. He deserves to rest with his mother.”

Every first Mead of a generation normally is buried in a tomb to what is believed to be the entrance to hell. Legend says glory will await them when they fall into hellfire. “I will propose it as well. I am sure my father can make an exception.”

\--

The sun is rising when the captain finally returns to his ship. He thinks the Anansi’s words over and over. A place that will cease to exist, something fire related probably. An immortal being with blood in its stomach, the tears of a lover. Michael has no lover, but his crew has plenty. One of them will suffice. There are enough immortal predatory beings, the most logical one being demons. But demons only eat souls, not the bodies itself. Michael knows he will have to dig deeper into this. A soft knock on the door interrupts his plotting.

When Michael opens the door he is greeted by both Miriam Mead and Ezra. He listens to woman’s story. Ezra his eyes are filled with compassion as he tries to make Michael understand the importance of Cornelis’s final resting place.

Michael rest his feet upon the table. There were three people Cornelis Mead had cared for in his life. Michael himself, his brother and his mother. _Follow your heart_. Maybe he should follow Miriam Mead’s heart instead. It should be without harm to travel to the east again. He interrupts their story. “I allow it. We will leave with the next new moon.” He watches how Miriam and Ezra share a look. This reminds Michael of the girl who looks so much like the one he wants to forget.

“You can go Miriam. Ezra, you stay. We need to have a talk.” Miriam looks worried for Ezra when she leaves the captain’s cabin. Ezra moves uncomfortably in the chair. Michael tilts his head. “Tell me son, who was the lovely Miss you took to the barn yester night?”

\--

Summer is over, and the devil’s ship leaves the island of her youth once again. Mallory watches it disappear at the horizon like she did so many years ago. She promised him to be faithful back then, not knowing he would be her first and last lover.

She watches the horizon until it is only darkness she sees. The waves are calling her to come back. But Mallory has one thing left to do before she will emerge to the depths were even sunlight won’t reach.

The Hebrón plantation is a small one, but at night she finds the story what she is looking for. In Akan they tell her about the eight legged god they call Anansi. Her dark eyes are reflecting the fire they’re gathered around. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, for she does not understand Michael’s motives for once.

Because for what does an immortal need time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anansi is a God that takes the form of a spider from a tale/myth that originated in Ghana. It was brought to the Caribbean and Suriname through the slave trade. It are just small tales about the God’s adventures. Because it was forbidden for the slaves to bring their own culture it became an act of rebellion to tell stories about Anansi. The real Anansi stories are not really this 'dark', but for the sake of plot this one is. 
> 
> Stories about Anansi are only allowed to be told at night. They’re often told when a person died. Nowadays they’re meant for children for them to learn a ‘lesson’. There is much more to find about Anansi, but since it only got such a small part in the fic I won’t go on for too long.
> 
> Akan is a language that originated in Ghana as well.
> 
> ‘Lucifer used to be Samuel’ I am not sure if this biblical accurate, but it is mentioned in the show ‘Lucifer’, so that part actually comes from that!
> 
> ‘Hebrón’ is the name of the plantation from one of my favourite books ‘Hoe duur was de suiker’ by Cynthia McLeod (translation: the price of sugar) which is a novel about life at the plantations in Suriname in the period between 1765 & 1779.
> 
> This chapter is written with ‘Tick Tock’ & ‘Chess’ from the ‘Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows’ soundtrack. Composed by Hans Zimmer. It really sets the mood!
> 
> Thank you for reading; I am so sorry for the lack of romance. But it needs some building up. There is some angst to come. Next chapter will be all about Ezra.


	4. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whenever Michael feels like giving it all up, he plays a game. His mind goes back to the things that made him once happy. His hands are covered in blood, but when he closes his eyes he no longer is stained.

John Henry Moore, once a sailor for the Royal Navy of Great Britain had died not unlike others of Langdon’s crew at sea. During the second Anglo-Dutch war he had sailed the flagship ‘ _Prince Royal’_. It was the beginning of the summer of 1666 when the ship participated in the Four Days Battle. On day three the Prince Royal had tried to escape the Dutch, for it to run aground in Galloper Sand. With the Dutch fireships surrounding it, the crew had panicked and surrendered their selves to captain Cornelis Tromp.

John had refused to surrender to their enemy and had chosen to end his life at sea. John acting tougher than he truly is, feared not unlike any other man death. Michael saw potential in his soul, offering him a second life. Serve the prince of darkness for a 100 years and your soul will be released to this earth for a second time. John had wanted to live a little more, take a wife, father some children. So he did not think twice about paying Michael’s price.

Not all of Michael’s crew are souls who wish to live longer. Some of them are mortals, choosing for darkness itself. They know they’ll end up in hell anyway, so why not live some more in sin?

John watches how his captain leaves the ship with the rotting body of his former first man. Its daughter takes the captain’s son’s hand in hers as he helps her to emerge from the ship. The eight month travel to the west coast of Europe is nothing compared to the time they traveled around hunting for souls. And of course the latest treasure. It is only six days until John no longer has to serve Michael. But John had decided he wanted to stay. John had found himself a wife in the last years of his employment. A wife with who he wishes to live in luxury; John is hungry for everything shiny and gold. And he knows sticking around with Michael will get him exactly this.

\--

Michael watches the people in the cemetery from afar. It’s not that he cannot visit the unholy grounds, it is more that he prefers not to. It is not a pleasant feeling for him to walk upon god’s grounds. 

Michael is not sure where he should go next. The spiders words a much repeated mantra in his head. _‘Find a home that will cease to exist and you will find time. For everything burns, but only what spews hurts’_  Michael is sure the location of his treasure will be near, or maybe if he is unlucky in, a volcano. But there are so many of them, new ones are even created with time. The tears of a lover and an immortal hunter must be what will lead him to the location.

Michael is still not sure what kind of immortal being he is hunting for. But he has enough time to find out. Time is all he has after all.

\--

Miriam is slightly disgusted with the way the Dutch man slides the raw fish into his throat. Sour herring covered in onions, she sees the Dutch eat it the whole day. Ezra told her they only sour the fish for the rotting taste to go away. Miriam can’t believe she is partly Dutch as well, she feels no connection to the weird and tall people speaking a language she does not understand.

But the beer in Holland is better than in the Caribbean and Ezra seems to enjoy the country.

“I’ve been thinking about traveling on my own.” He suddenly says. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, and sometimes it feels like I can’t be really a person of my own. I love my father, but I think it is time for me to get loose.”

Miriam nods. “I understand, I accepted my destiny. But I lived some on my own before my father’s dead. I am sure Michael will understand as well.”

Ezra does not answer, his light eyes stare into his glass.

In the end Miriam had been right. Michael will miss his son, but he also understands that he can’t keep him forever. They part ways a month later when Michael plans to travel south to find more clues about his treasure. Ezra goes east. He won’t see his father in another five years, his mother he still sees every summer.

Miriam misses her friend, but with time and experience she grows different as well.

\--

There is ice in Miriam Mead’s eyes when she orders the damned souls to scrub the wood again. In the five years that had passed she grew into the role her father had filled before her. Miriam is not much like Cornelis, but she is a Mead still.

John had heard whispers of their cruelty, some call it a curse. For the Mead’s it always had been a blessing. He is not fond of the captain’s first woman, he thinks she stimulates his bad ideas too much. Where Cornelis would wonder if it wasn’t a better idea to hunt for another treasure, Mead encourages every step the captain wants to take.

Five years at sea is a long time for mortals, John misses his wife and the baby girl he never got to meet. The captain does not tell his crew what they sail for, even the Mead girl does not know what the captain desires.

After Ezra’s departure they had set course to the south, Michael had wanted to visit the African colonies for god knows what. They however never stayed ashore for too long, for Michael always had found another place to sail.

In his long service John had never sailed up north this far. Michael told his crew Tromsø would be their last stop before their ship would go up north to where only explorers dare to go.

Michael does not fear dead, his soul has no limits. But John worries for his, the cold creeps into his bones and his stomach longs for the fresh of fruit. He hadn’t felt happy since their last stop; Bergen.

Bergen is where Michael had met his son again, John had watched how the captain had embraced his blood. Jealousy had flown through his cold body. Even now the memory stings. How John wishes he had a chance to see his lovely wife and their beautiful daughter again. All he knows is what she tells him through written words, but it is not enough.

That night John speaks his concerns out loud for the first time. With the sounds of Miriam Mead’s moaning keeping most of the crew who chose not to bed a girl awake.

Some jest about the poor man who was brave enough to bed Miriam Mead. But John ignores them. Instead he shares his opinions about the captain and its hunt softly with his friend. And so he finds out that he is not the only one tired of the captain and his endless hunt.

\--

It’s eight and a quarter month later that Miriam gives birth to a healthy boy during a storm. They’re sailing the Mediterranean Sea when her water breaks. Her wails are heard throughout the whole night. She was so loud some of the crew started to complain about the noise. One threatening look from Michael was enough to shut them up. He feels joy for his advisor, the child may not be planned. But it is wished for.

The captain’s hut stinks of blood and old sweat, but Miriam Mead is glowing. In her arms lies the small child, nuzzled against her breast. Michael his steps are slow and hesitant. He never really cared for babies. He never even held one; even his own son had been older when he first met him. But Miriam gives him the child to for him to hold without hesitation. The white dress Michael had bought her when they passed Gibraltar is still too big for it.

It’s features are delicate, it feels so small in his arms. “It’s a boy.” Miriam tells him. Michael smiles down on the small Mead. “I will name him Michiel, after the Dutch admiral, to honour my late father. And after you; for I am sure he will love you as much as I do.” Michael almost wants to cry, he can feel tears burn in his eyes.

He does not know what to say, so he says nothing. And nothing is needed to be said, with the new life that is sleeping safely in his arms this is all that is needed. He gives Michiel back to his tired mother.

“We will mere in Alexandria within three weeks. I think our stay there will be a longer one. I will make sure to find you somewhere comfortable to settle.”

\--

It takes Michael a year and a half to find the remains of the old library, and another six months to get his final answer.

In the years that had passed he found a lot hunters, some immortal beings and only a few that are both. But none fit within the Anansi’s riddle. Michael is annoyed with himself that only now he thought of going to the place where once all wisdom was stored.

In the depths of the ruins he finds the leather bound book he was searching for. There is magic in its pages, but it is not strong. Most of the texts are written in Greek. Michael skips many of the pages. Lot of the immortal beings mentioned in the novel he had already encountered. Until he finds one he hasn’t.

Michael had heard of the Sirens before. But he never really gave them much thought. To him they just were another form of demons. Demons who happen to live in the sea and be female. Only now Michael learns that they are not born demon, they were human first.

 _‘The ones who die at sea with a bitter heart.’_ What a ridiculous reason to become what they are. Many die with a bitter heart, not all of them are turned into sea demons.

The first sea demons were half bird half woman. They were the nymph like daughters of Phorcys, playmates of Persephone.

They were punished by Demeter for being unable to save Persephone from being taken by Hades. But the Sirens from the myths don’t eat their victim’s hearts, they just steal their life energy.

Humans evolve, maybe the same can be said about Sirens. Or maybe they are another species altogether. Michael inches closer to the drawing of the siren. It has lovely features, but there is something dangerous in her green eyes as well.

Michael turns the page. There is another drawing, but that is not what Michael notices. The Siren is drawn with a small chest, and when Michael leans in closer to read what is scribbled upon it, excitement runs through his body.

Could it be? Is the answer this obvious? Michael jumps up from the rock he had been sitting on. He swears he had seen a similar chest when he had searched for the book.

It is not well hidden, it’s almost too good to be true. But that might is what is meant. Michael can imagine it will confuse any other time hunter. For something so valuable to lay in the open, so obvious and close to the other thing that is needed. It must be meant to confuse, but Michael is clever enough to see through it.

 _‘ώρα_ _’_

The same word is burned into the dark wood as he had seen in the drawing.

He opens the box, he expects to find something dark. Instead inside lays a very simple golden locket with a white stone craved into it. Michael takes it from the box. The moment his hand touches the chain, the gem starts to change. Michael is wary, but all it does is change colour. The stone now no longer white but a very dark blue.

Michael holds up the necklace closer to his face to examine it. It does not look that special, it probably is another hint. He wonders what Miriam will think of it. Michael tugs the necklace away in his pocket, he leaves the library in a rush.

He meets Miriam in the place he rents for her. She is sitting on the sofa with two year old Michiel in her lap. Michael is seated upon the armchair in front of the pair.

“Look what I found.” Michael holds up the necklace. The gemstone inside is still a very dark blue. “What is it?” Miriam her brows are furrowed. “The key to the treasure ofcourse!”

Michael stands up from his seat, sitting down to the woman. Miriam shifts in her seat so she can watch the locket better. “What kind of stone is that?”

Michael shrugs, he is not really sure of it yet. “It’s magical, obviously. As soon as I touched it the stone changed its colour.” Michiel his small arms are reaching out for Michael. Michael hands Miriam the necklace, taking her son from her arms after. Michael wraps one of his arms around the dark haired child with the blue eyes. Both boys watch how the stone changes colour again.

The stone changes to amber when it touches Miriam her warm hand. Miriam her eyes widen, she searches for Michael’s eyes. “What else did you find?”

Michael shifts Michiel closer to his body, so they can sit more comfortable. He looks down on the boy with a fond smile. “Michiel, did I ever tell you about Sirens?” Miriam her brows are raised. “Mermaids?” She asks Michael. He nods, his expression does not match Miriam’s worried one. “Let me tell you a story about sea demons...”

\--

Zoe Benson rather stays in the safety of the water. She does not miss her legs but she is more loyal to her sisters needs then her own. Madison Montgomery is here to keep her company anyway. After Mallory called upon some of them for advice, Zoe had thought she could be helpful.

Both Sirens had heard of the Devil captain before, they however never had met him. Not that it will make a difference, because he is Mallory’s to take.

Zoe will never forget what Mallory did for her. She had killed her own personal demon, Cornelis Mead. Mallory had asked if Zoe had wanted to kill him, but Zoe had refused. For a long time all she had wanted was to be free from her humanity.

After she was turned she had searched for her parents, to only come to the cruel discovery that she was never kidnapped. They had sold her to the dreadful bearded man, they were well aware of what he was planning to do to her. After this Zoe had turned her back on humanity for good.

Sirens are not creatures to love fiercely. When they feel, they feel things intense. But most of that is reserved for anger and hunger. The little love Zoe still has in her heart are for the ones who knows how she feels best.

They walk past the devil’s ships. Its sails are dark, the magic the ship radiates is even darker. Zoe had planned to take some of the crew, Madison gladly had jumped into her plotting. It had not taken much effort of both ladies to be invited to where the sailors work.

“Is it true this is the devil’s ship?” Madison let’s her hand wander over one of the cannons. Zoe walks towards her friend. “Oi, it sure is.” The one that speaks has rotting teeth. Zoe pretend to be impressed by him anyway. “So many treasures you must have seen.” Zoe steps closer to the men. She can hear the rise of his heart beat, smell the alcohol in his veins and the decay of his mouth. It’s been a while since her last meal, he will do just fine when she gets what she wants from him.

Madison jumps in, seeing an opportunity. “You must be a rich man.” Madison her hand slides over the poor sailor’s arm.

“Are you hunting for a treasure right now?” Zoe whispers the words into his filthy ear. Why do they never feel the need to bathe? Zoe wonders, maybe they lost their ability to smell?

“We are.” Zoe her hand closes around his upper arm. “For what?”

He is hesitant. “The captain won’t tell. He never tells.” Zoe her brown eyes fall into Madison’s blue ones. Do they have to find another one? Or was this a useless mission?

“But ladies, isn’t it time for a little less talking and a bit more action?” Madison rolls her eyes, Zoe does not hide her smile. “Well, this was useless.” Madison exclaims. Zoe shakes her head, she is more optimistic than her friend. “At least there is enough food here.”

The man is confused, he does not understand why the two beauties in front of him decided to ignore him. Zoe eyes the men standing further away from them. It looks like there are about ten of them. “Shall we split?” Zoe asks. Madison her answer is a smile.

Fingers change into claws, pretty faces turn monstrous. It takes one movement from Zoe to slide the sailor’s throat.

Madison her eyes are ones filled with fury. “Bitch, I wanted to kill him!” Zoe ignores the blonde, instead she turns around her heels, to defend herself from the men trying to avenge their mate.

They keep coming and coming, the deck grows red with blood and torn of limps. And when the blonde captain of the ship finally arrives, they are just in time to depart from the ship. But all he does is watch them.

The blood that stains there skin is washed away in the salt ocean water, when the two girls return to the depths.

\--

The ship her deck is still wet with blood. There is no trace of the devilish girls, all that is left are bodies that now belong to death itself. John watches the mess, it will take days to clean it up. But that is not what is worrying him. The lack of response of the captain is what gives him a headache.

John knows he isn’t the only one who grows tired with the captain and his hunt. Maybe if there are enough of them, maybe if he forms a plan, they can overthrow Michael. All he cares about is Ms. Mead and his son. Nothing else really seems to matter, is there even a treasure?

John scratches the back of his head; a dangerous word pops up in it. It will take some convincing, he needs to be sly, needs to be smart. But with enough men it should not be impossible. Miriam Mead is easily defeated, all that is needed is her son. And when they have Miriam Mead, he is sure Michael will cooperate with them.

 _Mutiny_ , a dirty, nasty word. In the years he lived John never thought he would go this far. But he wants a better life for his wife and baby girl. Whatever it takes, they are the only ones for who he lives. They are all that makes his second life worthwhile. They are what makes him forget about the horrors of serving the devil’s child for a hundred years _. Whatever it takes_ , John walks towards his mourning mates, ready to plant a seed.

\--

They strike from behind. The cook who had been amusing the Mead’s child with stories about his favourite meals falls down to the ground when the sword pierces through his back all the way to his stomach. Michiel his blue eyes are wide open when John Henry Moore takes him from the table to take to the deck. All they need to find now is Ms. Mead.

Crew is attacking crew when they emerge. Blood flows heavily, the ones loyal to Michael Langdon refuse to let go of the ship without a fight. The captain is nowhere to be seen, but Miriam Mead is ordering them to stop. Fighting the ones who try to take her down.

The woman is small, but tougher than she looks. She shoots two men in the head when they try to tame her.

“Miriam Mead!” John voice is loud enough for Miriam to hear. When her steely eyes fall upon the man and what he is holding she stills.

“Bring us the captain!” John demands, the knife dangerously close to Michiel’s face. “Let my son go.” Miriam instead says. The boy starts crying when he sees his mom, his arms reaching out to her. But John is strong. “Bring Langdon here or the child will die.”

“You _pathetic_ man, do you really think you can order me around?” Miriam spits out. John his eyes narrow, he brings the knife to the boy’s throat. “I guess you don’t care enough about your son.”

Miriam Mead cries when the knife sinks lower to her son’s throat. Droplets of the child’s blood wet the steel. Michiel his cries are almost as loud as his mothers. Miriam thinks she’s going to lose her only son to this ridiculous man. She closes her eyes when the knife moves.

“Stop.” An unnatural strong voice stops all of that what is happening.

Darkness spreads over the ship, torches cool down, and raw voices grow silent. Weapons stop moving midair, legs are starting to shake. His magic floods over the ship like waves would during a storm. Bodies grow stiff and then limp. The ones attacking fall down to the ground, an invisible, invincible force dawns on them without mercy. Loins are emptied of air when the magic forces them to the ground. Tongues grow thick and numb when they try to scream for help. Blood pours from eyes, noses and mouths when hell’s darkness surrounds them.

The only ones unfazed are the ones who were defending. Michael is standing behind the wheel, looking down on the chaos.

Like a predator he walks the stairs down to where his crew lies paralyzed.

“Look at this mess.” Michael kicks a cut off hand out of his way.

“Have I not been generous? I allowed you to bed, to take wives, to give the world children.” The silence after his words is so deep it hurts. Michael his voice is as cold as the mountains of ice their eyes had witnessed in Spitsbergen. His facial expression is however neutral, as if he really is asking for an answer to his question. But none of them can speak, none of them can move.

Bones are creaking under the force of his magic, cheeks are pushed against the ancient wood. Hearts are beating too fast.

“Were the riches I shared so generously with the lot of you not enough? Did I withhold anything?” They want to look away, afraid for what there is to come. But Michael walks past all of them. Miriam Mead follows his steps like the loyal dog she became.

“Have I not been forgiving? Allowing the filth that you are to live a second life.” Michael walks to the one he knows to be behind the mutiny. Of course Michael had known that the traitor in front of him was planning the mutiny. He just never thought he would go through with it. The young Michiel is still struggling in his arms for freedom. John can’t move, an unnatural cold floods his body when the captain stands still before him.

Michael his eyes fall upon the cut John had made upon the boy’s throat.

If there is a hell, it is in Michael’s eyes. His mouth is curved into a cruel smile when he looks down on the other man. “Ms Mead, take your son.” Miriam pulls Michiel from John’s weakening arms. The child his cries are silenced against her shoulder.

The ones who stayed loyal to the captain are gathered behind him, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Bloodshed is promised in the way his magic burns around them.

“Miriam, get them from my cabin. Please leave Michiel there.”

Two of Michael’s strongest man follow the captain’s first woman. Michael nods to two other ones to take hold of John Henry Moore.

John’s scream of pure agony when he sees his wife and daughter escorted to the deck breaks Michael’s magic. John struggles in the arms of the two men holding him. But it has no use, they are too strong for him alone to take.

“Such a beautiful little family you have.” Michael his voice is soft. John his wife is a beautiful blonde woman, his daughter resembles her a lot. She is only seven years old. The same age Ezra was when Michael had taken his mother away from him.

“Don’t you dare to hurt them!” John almost animal like spits out the words. Michael ignores the man. He steps closer to the child that is shaking with fear. Her light eyes look up to her mother’s face, but her mother only has eyes for her husband.

Michael sinks down, to watch the girl into her eyes. “What is your name?”

“Alice.” She whispers. “Tell me, Alice. What would you feel when you see your loved ones get hurt?” The child looks up to her mother again, tears are forming in her eyes. “There is no need to be afraid, little girl. I won’t hurt you.”

She is silent for a while, Michael waits patiently for her to answer. “I would be angry.” She then says. Michael hums in approval. “So would I be.”

Michael stands up, walking away from the two females. He stands in front of John again. Michael dramatically sighs. “Oh John, you got me in a difficult position. With the events that happened I can’t really afford to lose members of my crew. But you did betray me. You did attempt to murder a child, you actually hurt a child!”

Michael watches how his crew closes around the two trembling girls. Michael is not the only one who is looking for revenge. “I really dislike the idea of murdering an innocent child and its mother.” He sighs again, ignoring the chants of his crew. There is hope in John Henry Moore’s eyes now. “Please don’t hurt them Michael. I will serve you for eternity if you just let them go.” John’s voice is thick with fear.

Michael pretends to think about his proposition, he turns his back on the traitor. There is still a dangerous glint in his eyes, as he watches the Moore family. When Michael turns around, there is a smile plastered upon his face. “It’s a deal.”

John his body actually slumps down in relief. But what Michael does next changes it all. He gives Miriam Mead a nod. “Will you see to them, Miriam?”

Miriam her smile is almost as cruel as the captain’s. “Kill them.” She commands the crew.

Michael does not watch how the two innocents are killed by his crew. He does not even really hear their screams as their blood wets his ship. All he does is watch how John tries to fight himself to freedom, how he cries, screams and falls down to the ground when the screams of his family finally stop.

His crew is not done yet, they are beasts, worse than the demons in hell. John cries silent tears now, Michael watches him with his head tilted. “Enough.”

His crew stops when Michael puts his hand up in the air. “Miriam, the tears?”

Silence falls over the ship, when Michael speaks again.

“Remember how merciful I was.” Fearful eyes watch between the captain and the crying man. His head is held back by two of Michael’s most loyal servants. His cheeks are stained with tears because of what he had to witness. His tears are being stolen by the dark haired woman Michael adores so much. John his tears are safely stored away into the flask. _‘Tears of a love lost.’_ He now has two things, he only needs one thing more. All that is left is a Siren.

Michael releases the crew from his magic.

“Because next time I won’t be.” Michael finally continues. He turns his back on John Henry Moore, until he thinks of something.

He turns around, he searches for Ms. Mead her blue eyes. They are hard and filled with hatred. Michael understands, they had hurt her son. Michael his pale eyes fall upon the bodies that are bleeding out on the dark wood.

“And oh, Ms. Mead, make sure John cleans up the mess I had to make because of him.” 

Only when Michael closes the doors of his cabin he can no longer hear the screams and curses of the traitor.

\--

_‘I cannot wait for Michiel and me to meet. He sounds like a true delight._

_Fare well and hopefully see you soon. I brought my father some news that might want to set his course elsewhere._

_Yours,_

_Ezra.’_

Ezra rolls up the parchment, hoping it will reach his dear friend in time. He is not sure where his father is headed, his endless search for this unknown treasure seems to be all he thinks about.

The salty smell of Venice’s waters come in through the opened windows. Ezra is not alone in the study. The girl he met three years ago is sitting on a faded pink sofa with his mother. Physically he is older than Mallory now, but to Ezra she will always be the one he looks up to.

Mallory watches her daughter in law closely. Her belly is growing so fast now, soon they will need to adjust her day dresses. She likes the girl, Charlotte with her dark brown curls and soft eyes. She does not know Mallory is her mother in law. She thinks Mallory as Ezra’s sister. A lie that will fall if Michael ever visits his son. But Mallory knows what had happened a few months ago, Michael won’t be stepping a foot ashore for a while. Not now he is hunting for one of her own.

A useless hunt, he will never find what he is looking for. Only in the water they look like what he desires, on the land they look like any other lady.

\--

Mallory is there when her granddaughter is born. They call her Lucia, Mallory thinks it’s very fitting. The girl looks like her mother, there is light in her brown eyes and her hair is black. She stays with them longer than she is permitted to do so.

Soon she will have to hunt again, the domestic life, no matter how comfortable it feels, is not one for her. Not anymore. She feels no jealousy when she watches her son kiss his wife. She feels no jealousy when they are the family she had longed to be with Michael before Cornelis Mead had threatened her.

All she feels is an emptiness in her heart, for what never could be. Mallory is reading one of the letters Miriam Mead had send her son.

She writes a lot about her son, a thing Mallory happens to find endearing, but not what she is looking for. Sometimes Miriam writes about Michael and his hunt, foremost how long it is taking.

But then Mallory her attention is sparked. Between anecdotes about John Henry Moore his dammed soul and Michiel learning how to speak, she finds something interesting.

A letter, dated November of last year, says that Michael almost tortured his entire crew because of a missing locket. It turned out Michiel had found a toy in the shiny thing. She can feel the Mead’s amusement in the parchment when she describes Michael’s stunned face when they found out. But Mallory is more interested in the captain’s rage. The locket must be something related to the treasure he so longs to find.

\--

Its two years after her birth that Michael meets his granddaughter for the first time. The girl with her soft brown curls immediately takes a liking to the blonde captain. The whole afternoon that they had spend exchanging stories she can’t be lured away from the blonde.

Michael acts like it is no big deal, but secretly he is very pleased with it. The girl is beautiful, Miriam thinks it will be good for Michiel to finally be able to play with other children. Ezra then offers to watch Michiel for the night.

With interest Michael listens to his son’s tales about the places he traveled to. From the first time he had seen snow to that one time he was almost attacked by bandits in Greece. Charlotte he had met in Florence, where she had been living with her aunt. Charlotte was what made him want to settle down; they moved to Venice to live closer to her family.

Michael reveals some about his treasure hunt and the many mystical creatures he had encountered in his travels. Leaving out the sirens on purpose. It is better for Ezra to not know about the creatures, he might would search for them. Michael does not want his son to get hurt; god knows what those dreadful creatures would do to him.

After their visit the pair walks through the crowded streets of Venice. “I still can’t believe the tears didn’t work.” Michael reminisces. Miriam Mead her fingers close around the locket that is safely tucked away in the pocket of her coat.

“Maybe you need a Siren’s tear.” Miriam thinks out loud. But Michael shakes his head. “Impossible, those dammed demons only care about murder and looking pretty.”

Miriam slows down, it makes a not so alert lady collide with her. Her shoulder bumps hard against Miriam’s. Miriam almost falls backwards because of the force. “Pardon!” The lady looks down to the ground, Miriam did not catch her face and she is gone before she can give a response. She rolls her eyes, she does not like Italian people.

“How long will we stay?” She asks. Michael shrugs, walking in front of her. He looks over his shoulder. “Until I find out how to catch a Siren.” Miriam does not mind if they stay a little longer. It would be nice for Michiel to not have to live at sea. And Miriam had missed Ezra a great deal, it had been good to see her friend again.

Miriam her hand sinks into her pocket again, to find it empty.

“Michael, its gone.” Miriam Mead stops in her track. Her hands sink in both pockets of her coat again. Michael turns around, confused he looks down on the woman. “What is gone?”

“The locket, it’s gone! Someone must have stolen it! I still had it a few moments ago!” Miriam looks to the ground, maybe she dropped it? But there is nothing there.

Michael looks sick when he realizes what this means. “We need to find it!” He commands, already walking into the direction they came from.

\--

Mallory studies the locket she so cleverly stole of Miriam Mead. It does not look that special. It’s made of gold, with a gem that had coloured a dark red when it had touched her skin. It radiates magic, but it is not strong enough for Mallory to feel truly tempted by it.

Maybe it is the key to the treasure, maybe it is a hint that will lead to another hint. Mallory her thin fingers touch the stone. It does not matter to her how long it will take for him to get it. She wonders for what he needs it. There must be a way for him to spill, there must be a way for her to find out what he wants.

Mallory her eyes fall upon a pamphlet for a masked ball. There might be a way to lure him into her trap.

\--

Michael is still holding the pamphlet an elder lady had given him when he had searched the streets for the locket. The lady had told him he might find what he is looking for there. Michael knows it is a trap, but he is not really afraid of it.

He is the devil’s son after all. What can do him harm?

Michael is wearing his burgundy jacket, it matches with the mask he wears. Music is playing, he does not recognize the tune. He makes his way through the mingling and dancing couples. Searching for something suspicious.

His eyes scan the people in the room, until his eye catches the shimmering of gold. Her dark hair is pinned up, a black mask hides all of her face. She wears a lavender dress, in her right hand she holds a drink. Even though they can’t see her face, most men in the room are watching her. There is something in the way she stands, in the way she holds herself and her drink. Michael can see all of that, but most important he can see what is hanging around her throat.

Without really thinking it through, he walks her way. The stone is a deep red colour now, but he purposely avoids looking at his locket.

“Not much of a dancer?” Michael asks. If she is surprised by his words, she hides it well enough. “I have no one to dance with, I am afraid.” Her voice is low, almost inaudible because of the mask that cages her words. “It seems like there are enough who wish to be you partner.” Michael says, they both watch how a man clothed in purple turns his gaze away from hers when he catches them looking.

Her laugh is soft and pleasant. Michael feels it going through his whole body. He is sure this girl is not human, but he feels strangely temped to play into her game. She smells like decay, too sweet. She smells like something that should have left this earth long ago.

“None of them are brave enough to ask.” Michael smiles behind his mask when she answers him.

“But I am.”

\--

Mallory is almost impressed with the way his eyes stay on her face and don’t linger to the locket hanging just above her breast. Her hand feels small in his hand, but his touch is soft. He leads them to the other dancing pairs. Mallory is glad her mother taught her how to dance all those years ago. It does work with the persona she’s trying to keep up.

She wonders who had taught Michael how to dance. Maybe one of the Meads? He leads her to the middle. She puts one hand at his shoulder. Michael places his hand at her waist. She can feel the warmth of him through the lavender fabric of the dress. “I am afraid I am not that skilled of a dancer.” He sounds apologetic, there is something in his eyes that reminds her of the boy who offered her to pay all the drinks. She swallows the memory away, not wanting to think of a time she was happier.

But despite herself Mallory smiles, she squeezes his shoulder lightly. “Luckily I am.” His eyes shine in the light, it is all she can see of his face. But it tells her everything; he is enjoying her. It is all going according to her plan. “Then lead me through it, my lady.”

And she does, it is her swaying Michael through the room, it is her who sets the pace. It is her who needs to move slowly for her toes to not be stepped upon. By the third song she is breathless with her suppressed laughter and the way he manages to apologize for every misstep he takes.

“Excuse me, I think I need to sit down.” Mallory says after the fourth dance. Michael nods, this time he is the one taking the lead.

He leads them to a sofa somewhere more private. Is he planning to steal the locket from her? Or will he indulge in her little game a bit more?

“You are a better dancer than you give yourself credit.” Like all men, Michael is a fool for compliments as well. She can see it in the way he shifts closer to her. “Only because I had a great partner.” Mallory leans closer to his frame, distracted by the way his voice seems to unleash something in her body.

Mallory can feel the pulse of his heart now she is so close. It surprises her how willingly he soaks into her attentions. Her fake flirtations do better than expected. She is not completely unfazed by his words as well. “I wonder, is your face as pretty as your words?” There is no need for Michael to remove his mask, but Mallory wants to see his face. It’s been ages since they were this close. She no longer hidden in shadows or water. The last time they were this close he had demanded her death. The next time they’re close like this Mallory will make sure he is the one dying.  

But yet, there is something nostalgic in his boyish charm and sweet smell. There is something that reminds her of nights spend waiting for him to return to her. Her human memories slightly clouded, but they still are there.

Her hands are reaching for his mask when he does not answer her. She leans in closer, her leg touches his.

When she removes the burgundy mask she is stunned. His face is so close to hers, it reminds her of the way he had looked at her before kissing her. They won’t kiss now, but strangely she wants to do so. To remove her mask and push her lips against his. To let her teeth sink into his bottom lip, to suck his sweet blood from it. Her hands would go into his hair, forcing his face to look up to her. Would he try to fight her when he realizes it’s her? Would he be angry or be happy?

Would she kill him immediately or first kiss him some more? Mallory is surprised with herself for even considering it.

“Like what you see?” Michael asks her. He has the arrogance only an immortal being can possess, she hates that she is amused by it. “Not as much I thought I would.” Mallory lies, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. She will always like the way he looks, she will always love the way he is. Even when she will do nothing with it.

He is offended, she can see it in the way his eyes narrow. His eyes slide down to her chest, watching the locket.

“What an interesting necklace you are wearing.” He comments. Mallory her grin behind the mask is broad. So now he is getting to the core? “I found it in the streets.” She is taunting him, and she loves it. There is something burning in his eyes, an annoyance that she does not respond the way he wants her to respond.

His hand wraps around her arm, his touch does not hurt her. But if she was human she probably would find it unpleasant. She is amused by him, he does not look amused by her. “Who are you?” he asks. His voice is threatening, she supposes were she anyone else she would be frightened by it. But she is no one else. So she just laughs, pushing his body back against the couch.

\--

Her dark eyes are filled with everything but fear. They’re black soulless black holes that swallow every form of light. Michael his hand closes tighter around her arm, his fingers delve into her cold skin. “Who are you?” He repeats again. He can smell the rotting of her immortality in his nose. The smell not much unlike how demons smell, hers is only a bit sweeter.

Despite he’s the one holding her, she acts like she is the one in control. Her masked face inches towards his, the mask touches his cheek when she leans towards his ear. Her hand grabs his shoulder.  “I am all you long for. I am your heart’s desire, the one you can’t catch.”

Her voice is hoarse, animalistic and nothing like something he should remember. But he remembers this voice, something deep within starts to tingle. A warmth spreads through his body, his head tries to find where it comes from. But nothing comes.

Her breath stinks of death. He can feel her unnatural sharp nails dig into his shoulder. Michael places his left hand on her leg. He grabs it through the thick fabric of her dress. “Were you one of the ‘girls’ who killed so merciless at my ship?”

Her laugh is not joyous but ridiculing him, her head falls back when she lets the sound out. Her hand moves from his shoulder, to his throat. Her fingers wrap around it, Michael let’s her. If this truly is one of them, he needs to keep her busy. He needs this little siren. She pushes his head back, Michael let’s go of her arm. He looks up to her masked face, his eyes fall down to the locket she stole.

“How did you get the locket?” She shakes her head, her fingers close tighter around his throat. “Why do you want what you hunt for?” Now it is Michael’s turn to laugh. “None of your business.” He manages to get out. It’s getting harder to breath, but he is not afraid.

“Are you planning on killing me? Because I am pretty sure I cannot be killed.” He hears her snicker behind her mask.

“Nothing last forever, Michael Langdon.”

He never told her his name, but he is used to immortals knowing his name. But the way she says his name makes Michael feel cold. Again a nagging feeling floats up. He remembers this, he knows this voice. But from what or where?

Her hand leaves his throat, it moves to his face. Here nails scratch circles in his cheeks, she leans in closer. He can see the exact colour of her eyes now; they’re brown.

Michael his hands are moving up, ready to tear the mask of her face. To see who is the one taunting him. Her nails are sinking into his skin, her face is so close to his that she can’t see what he is planning to do.

She wants to kill him, he will expose her before she does so.

But neither happens, the door slams open. Miriam Mead does not even acknowledge the situation she finds her captain in. Her hand is placed upon her rapidly beating heart. “They got them… They got them, Michael! Ezra… Michiel…”

Michael stares into the Siren’s brown eyes, the panic that must be in his own eyes is mirrored in hers. She jumps up from the sofa before he does.

\--

“One more please?” Michiel his eyes are pleading looking up to Ezra’s face. But Ezra shakes his head. “It is time to sleep, Michiel. Lucia is asleep already. It is getting late.” Charlotte watches her husband with a smile. “Tomorrow is another day.” Charlotte takes Michiel to bed, while Miriam and Ezra stay into the study.

Ezra slides the candy he took from Michiel in the pocket of his trousers.

“I am going to get myself a drink, do you want something as well?” Ezra shakes his head when Miriam stands up.

He watches how his friend leaves the room. The evening sun colours the wood in the study orange, Ezra watches how the shadows grow taller with the minutes that pass.

“No! Don’t hurt the children!” A shot is heard after. Ezra jumps up from his stool, he sprints to his daughter’s room. In the door opening lies Charlotte, she is shot from behind. A handsome dark haired man is pointing a gun at Ezra now. There are three other men in the room, pointing their guns at the children.

“What is going on?” Miriam walks into the hallway, to see what had caused the noise. She pales when she sees the scenario. John Henry Moore looks the Mead straight in the eye. “Get Michael Langdon or we will kill all of you.”

Ezra still shocked looks at his friend. “Get my father.” He says. Miriam nods, moving as fast as she can away from the house to get the captain.

“What do you want from my father?” Ezra tries to be brave, but his hands are shaking. In another life John would have felt pity for the man. But this John has nothing left to loose.

“Revenge.”

Ezra his laugh is humorless. “Don’t they all?”

“He took everything, now I will take his everything.” John turns around. “Kill the children.”

Two shots are heard when Ezra jumps forward. His desperate ‘ _no’_ lost in the violence of gunpowder and bullets. John catches Ezra when he tries to attack John. John grew in all his years of heavy labor strong enough to fight. He pulls a knife from his pocket, he holds it against his throat.

“Let’s wait outside for your father.”

\--

Ezra sees how both his parents run his way. His mother is still masked. It does not matter if he dies, as long as John dies as well. “There are three more! They already killed everyone!” He screams. Ezra can feel the knife move against his throat.

And everything goes very fast then. A shot is heard, Miriam Mead her hand is shaky. The knife sinks into Ezra’s skin. John falls down to the ground at the same moment as Ezra does. In his last breath he can see his mother running towards him, blood wet and warm streams to the stones.

From the stones it streams into Venice’s green waters, for it to dissolve in the salt. Empty blue eyes stare up to the night sky. Hidden in his pocket still, is the candy he had meant to give Michiel.

\--

Hours later Michael returns to his cabin. His clothing torn, blood covers his skin. His eyes are swollen, his throat is aching. He falls down on his bed, not bothering to remove his clothing or wash away the blood.

Whenever Michael feels like giving it all up, he plays a game. His mind goes back to the things that made him once happy. His hands are covered in blood, but when he closes his eyes he no longer is stained.  
  
He is teaching Ezra how to sword fight.  
  
A laugh comes from behind Michael. When he turns around to see where it comes from he is shocked. It’s Mallory, her dress is white and her hands are placed upon her swollen belly. “Don’t hurt your father, he still needs to build your baby brothers crib.” The voice of Ezra arguing with his mother that it also could be a sister sounds far away. Her smile hurts, her dark eyes are filled with nothing but love.  
  
The scene changes, Michael is lying on his back.   
  
“My hearts desire.” Her voice whispers it into his ear, she is naked and he is lying beneath her. He can feel her wetness against him, he is ready to slip in, her eyes are wide open. “I am all that you long for.”  
  
Michael his eyes snap open. The hoarse voice, the girl, her smell and the way she clung onto Ezra. He remembers her purring his name in that exact voice when he claimed her for the first time that night. He remembers how she had spoken his name and how it was enough to make him come undone.  
  
Coldness floods through his body, his heart skips a beat. The victorious feeling he had earlier replaced by complete dread _. ‘The ones at sea who die with a bitter heart and a lust for revenge’_. Could it be? Could it truly be her? It would explain everything, from Cornelis Mead’s untimely dead to the sirens attacking his crew.  
  
Michael feels the bile come up in his throat. He is just in time with leaning to the right to puke his insides to the ground.  
  
Mallory, _Mallory_ , she was there. She is not dead. _Mallory_ , he cries her name out loud. Tears are streaking his cheeks. He lost his world, he got it back. Mallory. Her name so sweet upon his tongue.  
  
Mallory, she will come for him. Michael is sure of it, and he will be waiting for her.  
  
For tears of a love not so lost, will set him free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the ‘Prince Royal’ is a real one. Michiel de Ruyter had it burned because it was a too powerful war ship for the English.  
> Michiel, the son of Miriam Mead is also named after this famous beloved Dutch admiral. 
> 
> Sour herring is a typical Dutch food. Its usually eaten with a lot of onions. It is indeed also true that it used to be sour so the rotting taste wouldn’t be noticed. I never had it, because I am not really into raw fish (and I find it disgusting they slide that thing inside their throat tail and all blergh). If you ever visit The Netherlands and want a typical NICE Dutch treat try a ‘kroket’. Or ofcourse stroopwafels, which are best when you let them rest upon your cup of tea or coffee. It will make the caramel inside soft. 
> 
> Tromsø & Bergen are ofcourse located in Norway. 
> 
> The sirens that are described come from Greek mythology. The word ώρα is simply Greek for ‘time’. 
> 
> \--
> 
> I am not really happy with this chapter. It’s a lot of necessary plot and quit some action. I chose to tell it in fragments to make it easier for me to write lol. When it comes to this story I actually never worry too much about plot and setting up, because this is the kind of fic I write to relax. But this chapter was not really ‘relaxing’ to write. The following chapters will be less intense story telling wise, I promise. 
> 
> This chapter has some ‘missing’ parts. Those will come back in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her finger traces his mouth, following the curve of his upper lip. She can feel his shallow breathe against her hand. Nothing last forever, but Mallory thought they would.

Rain falls for days, it pours harder then she can take. In her second life Mallory only had cried twice. Once for happiness, once for sadness.

The rain pours, days are too long. Unmoved, it’s been days. Her dress is dirty, her knees are weak. She keeps herself in this state of being. Her body wet enough for it to grow its tail, but the land steady enough for it to think twice about it.

It is the only way she can feel nothing. The only way her body grows tired. Will she collapse, it will all be over.

She remembers the tears she cried. Mallory never was one to shed many tears, even when she was human she rarely cried. But she remembers holding the daughter of her son in her arms. The way her brown eyes were hers and her mothers.  Even as a baby she was beautiful. The birth of her granddaughter had been uneventful. So unlike her father’s birth. Ezra was born late August, it had took hours before she could hold him.

Never had Mallory thought to feel the happiness she once felt when she had held Ezra in her arms for the first time. But Lucia’s birth had come close. A part of her would always live on, a part of Ezra would always be there, she had thought. Mallory had accepted a long time ago her son wouldn’t be there for forever. But his daughter had changed it all.

The second time she cried was when they had killed her son.

\--

Ezra his blood greets the sky like they’re long lost lovers. Miriam Mead fires the bullet at the same time Ezra’s life ends. Time stops for Mallory when she sees her son fall to the cobbles. Nothing else matters, all thoughts of keeping up an image gone. She runs towards the boy for who she would murder the whole world.

Her arms are wrapped around his shoulders, trying to keep him up. It has no use, her son his body is heavy. His skin still hot, the blood that pours from his throat is wetting her hands when she tries to close the wound. Silent tears stream over Mallory her cheeks

Nothing else matters, all that there is for her now is her boy who no longer is. She finally looks up, Michael his face had grown pale. Miriam Mead her cries can be heard from the inside of the house when she finds her son murdered in his bed.

“We must get the other three!” Mallory never had seen Miriam like this. Gone is the calm loving mother; a wild reckless woman took her place. Michael does not respond, instead he keeps on looking at his son.

Miriam violently shakes her captain, this seems to work. “Michael, we need to find the other three! Can’t you find them with your magic?”

Mallory her attention already drifted away from them. She knows how to find them, their smell is still strong enough for her to know that they did not leave the city.

She gives Ezra one last look. She lets him go then, to find the ones responsible.

She finds them soon enough, they didn’t even split up. Mallory wonders, does Michael only hire crew who is dumber than him so he can feel superior?

Three pair of eyes watch her come closer. “Did it feel good to kill those innocent children?” They share a look, she imagines she looks weak to them. “It’s okay to admit it felt good. I know how good killing feels.”

Mallory knows they don’t feel the panic they should feel; they probably think her weak. “Are you with Captain Langdon?” The blonde one asks her. Mallory let’s out a laugh. Captain Langdon could only wish for her to be on his team.

Mallory is overwhelmed with the need inside of her. Killing them might not be as satisfying as killing Cornelis Mead was, but it comes close.

“Who wants to die first?” Mallory stops in front of them. They share another look, the same amused expression upon their bland faces. They attack her, but even outnumbered Mallory is powerful enough to take them on.

Her hand sinks into the chest of one while the other tries to remove her mask. He fails, only tearing it in half. All he did was make it easier for her to attack.

Her exposed mouth opens when she leans into the third man. Her teeth sinks into his shoulder, while she removes her hand and heart from the second’s chest.

The first one falls to the ground when her claws cut his throat open. The third one has fear in his eyes, he stumbles backwards to get away from her. His shoulder is bleeding from her bite.

But there is no getting away when the demon inside is unleashed. He falls to the ground before he even can come up with a way out.

\--

Michael finds the Siren who so suddenly left them surrounded by three dead bodies. The second thing he sees is the locket. In her right hand she holds a half-eaten heart.

Their blood is staining her lavender dress, her destroyed mask exposes her mouth and her nose. There is nothing beautiful or seductive about the Siren now. She no longer looks like a lady; a demon is all Michael sees. But he is not repulsed by it, on the contrary, if he wasn’t so keen on getting his locket back, he might’ve tried to seduce it. The gem inside the locket is black now.

His grip on her shoulder is tight, she might be a demon, he’s still the devil’s son. With his other hand he pulls the necklace from her throat. Her dark eyes look into his, and Michael is surprised by the grief within them. His hand moves from her shoulder, moving up to the side of her head to remove the mask. Why did the Siren care enough to murder the ones who killed his loved ones? What kind of creature is this?

Her lips are slightly parted, he leans closer to her face without really realizing he’s doing it. His hand is touching the mask now. Her thin lips curl into a smile when she realizes what he is about to do.

She takes a step back before he can stop her. The water splashes up to his face when she dives into it. The last he sees of her, is the shimmer of her scales in the rising sun.

\--

Days after the realization that the Siren was Mallory, he still feels feverish. He does not know what this means. He had killed her, she surely wants revenge. Does he want to kill her again? He had wished to do so simply because she rejected him in a way. Now she’s much stronger, more dangerous.

Michael had felt uncomfortable because of his own feelings. He should have felt fear, anger, maybe even some hate. But all he felt was a weird mixture of regret, hope and happiness. Why would there be positive feelings? All he had wanted for so long was to forget about her. But now that it turned out she is not gone, all he wants is to see her again. And not only because he needs her tears.

Whenever he thinks of her, he feels like throwing up. Not because she repulses him that much, but because the mere mention of her name alone is enough to create a weird light feeling in his stomach.

He remembers too much, the way he had loved her after that one night. And the hopeless feelings he had when she was not there when he had returned.

What will she do now he has the locket again? Does she know about his hunt? Is that why she stole the locket? Or was she simply taunting him because immortality became boring?

Maybe she does not care for him at all, Michael is not sure if Sirens have feelings. Maybe she only stuck around because their son was the last person she had loved as a human.

Michael shakes his head, his fist clenches around the locket not for the first time that day. Thinking about Ezra brings another sort of pain then thinking of Mallory does. The responsible ones were killed, but no violence will ever make the pain go away.

If he finds his treasure, what will he want to change? He wants Ezra back, he wants to hold his son once again. A sob escapes him, only thinking about burying his face into his son’s hair is enough to make his insides burn with sadness.

Michael his watery eyes don’t really see the ocean ahead of him. They’re sailing again, there are always souls to guide to the realms of infinite salvation.

He no longer wants salvation, he no longer longs for purity and careless love. In his sadness and dark thoughts all he finds is the ache to forget about the pain that came with it.

Michael waits for weeks for Mallory to find him, he would chase her if he knew where to start. But Mallory never returns. And neither does his sanity. The locket is always cold against his skin. The gem inside it is black now. It’s at the one year anniversary of his son’s death he sees her for the first time again.

\--

They’re buried together. Four names pressed into the grey stone, a family grave she will never share with them.

She didn’t want to come here at first; afraid for the feelings being here might give her. She was afraid to be hit by the feelings of sadness that sometimes still surface.

 _‘Sometimes’_ , who is she kidding? There are days where she indeed is doing better, but there are days where she can’t even remember how being happy feels.

She tries to find positivity in memories, to find comfort in them. Today is a hot day, Ezra would have loved a day like this. Back when they were still on the run, Mallory would take him swimming when the sun burned too hot.

In lakes, oceans or rivers. Everywhere they ran to, she had found a place for them to swim. The years they spend living everywhere were happy ones. Even though she had to watch over her shoulder, afraid to be caught by the devil captain and his cruel crew. Every place she left, he had found. Stories of their pillaging and raping would always find her. She made sure her young son never heard them.

They were happy, Mallory remembers those days so fondly it hurts to think about them now. They can never be happy again, she can never hold Ezra again. She will never tame his wild hair with her fingers again. They will never swim together, they will never dance, never sing, never talk.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, she pushes her tears back. Memories are not enough, they never will be enough. No matter how many times she tries to tell herself she must be glad to have them. That she was blessed to have him in her life, even when she had wanted him to be longer there. But she does not believe her own words.

Parents should never outlive their children. Memories alone will never be enough. When Mallory turns her back on their grave, she notices a tall figure watching her from afar. She does not need to come closer to know who it is.

She ignores him; not in the mood to be reminded by another tragedy.  She wants to feel nothing, so she does the only thing that she can do.

It will be years later when she sets a foot ashore again.

\--

It’s the end of August 1883 when Michael finds himself finally at the end of his hunt. In the warm waters of the Indian Ocean he finds the final piece of the puzzle. Thick smoke swirls up to the air. Michael watches the volcano with a blank expression. Soon it will erupt, Anak Krakatoa is doomed to spew. He had been in New Batavia when he had heard the explosions for the first time. It all had clicked for him then and there. Krakatoa is where it all will end.

Over the years he had grown grim. A weak reflection of what he used to be before he met Mallory. Gone is the young man searching for light. Gone is the man that had only loved his son and every first Mead. There are no Mead’s any more to love.

Miriam Mead once forgiving, lighthearted and easygoing changed a great deal after the loss of her son and best friend. After the disastrous events that had happened in Venice Miriam had grown to almost an opposite version of the woman she was before.

She had cut her hair short, changed her wardrobe to exclusively black clothing only. Michael can’t blame her for changing, they all did. All she cared about now was Michael’s hunt and punishing the ones who did not do as she pleased.

He had let her, it was what she needed. Miriam did not get pregnant again; Michael didn’t care. It only meant he didn’t have to lose another Mead again. He lost so many, Michael rather has no one than somebody who he can lose.

When Miriam had passed away, he had buried her with her son Michiel. A family of five they were now. Michael tries not to feel jealous that at least they would find each other in death again.

The luxury of death is not one he has. Michael will never understand why some of the souls he collect do wish to live a little longer. Life is nothing but pain and despair. They must be machoism’s to want more of it.

Michael his hand goes to the locket against his chest. The gem is no longer black, the closer they sail to the rumbling volcano, the lighter it becomes.

Ash falls down upon their faces, as all that was once loved burns away. A home that ceases to exist, only what spews hurts. And only now Michael understands the true meaning of the riddle. Only what spews hurts, all that what had happened was because of his own deeds.

With a sound louder than anything ever heard on this earth the volcano erupts. To wipe away all that is loved and needed. And all Michael can do is to bear witness how everything fades away.

The waves swallow his ship as if they’re hell’s mouth itself. Michael can’t hear a thing, his ears are hurting. Chaos surrounds him when the ones who did not sink to their knees because of the deafening explosion, are impaled by splinters of wood.  
  
It rains ashes and rocks, all where Michael looks he sees death.  
  
Not even the immortal souls he collected can stand nature’s violence. The ships can’t take the waves, the ancient wood splinters beneath his feet. It all goes very fast now, the waves taking Michael and his crew further and further away from the burning island.  
  
When Michael hits the water all his senses are numb. His skin is burning, his loins are filled with salt. He does not sink peacefully to the bottom, the waves are too violent for that.Michael can’t feel a thing, he is barely alive. He will die, that’s the only thing that is certain. And maybe that is all what he wants right now.

\--

Even in the safety of the depths she can hear the exploding volcano. She finds him floating between splintered pieces of wood and burned bodies. The waves are strong, she needs to use all of her strength to swim against the tide.

She grabs him before the waves can take him away from her. Her arms wrapped around his body, her chin pushed against his shoulder, as she tries to save him from drowning.

Mallory is able to get them close enough to the coast for them to drift there without her help. She is weakened by the blast as well.

Her fingers sink into the wet hot sand, she finally let’s go of his body. He lies on his back, she is watching him.

His eyes are open, but they see nothing. His eyes are so clear, denying every colour, every form of life. He looks vulnerable, she did not think to ever see the almighty captain like this. Mallory does not think he is dead, but he is barely alive.

His skin is as cold as hers, his lips are dry. The sky is dark with the ash that snows down on them. It’s a miracle he is still alive, everything else had been immediately destroyed. They were too close, the eruption too loud. Even Mallory has trouble hearing properly. There is a beep in her ears that does not go away.

He wears the locket, the gold shimmers even when there is no light for it to reflect. If he ends this way, she will be unsatisfied. Him and his stupid hunt for time, aren’t there more important things to worry about? She takes the locket from him once again.

There is nothing left of his ship, nothing left of his crew. And now she is stealing the key to his treasure once again. They both are alone in this world now.

Mallory does not cry, she lies beside him on the shore. Half in the water, half into the sand. Her lungs are filled with ash, her eyes never leave his face.

Ezra always had been the spitting image of her, but the longer she watches Michael’s face the more she sees Ezra in him. He had been a good father to their son, she is grateful for the love he didn’t want to give her, but was still given to their son.

They share this grief, he might be the only one who loved Ezra like she did. Michael might be the only one to understand that time does not heal wounds. The wounds became less painful, but the ache will always be caged within the scars.

There are moments Mallory longs to fall back into that dark pit of sadness; where nothing matters but her lost son. Sometimes she is afraid to forget, sometimes she is glad she is forgetting. Mallory can’t remember how his voice used to sound like. Mallory does not remember the jokes he told her, Mallory no longer remembers the way he used to smile.

Most days she lives numb, like the sea demon she is. But there are times where all of her sadness seems to return. A bottomless pit of darkness. Whenever she is pulled down by those depressive thoughts, it is hard to swim up to the light. Mallory tries to remember the light is still there, but at times it feels useless to live like this. Forever passes her by like it means nothing at all. She does not count days, she counts years. And every year is the same.

It’s suffocating, to live in this state of despair. Sometimes she longs to fall into her grief, just to feel something. Mallory will never be able to drown, but giving in to her sadness comes close enough.

She wonders if Michael ever feels like drowning, is his heart as broken as hers? She hopes for his sake it is not.

She traces the sharp features of his face with her index finger. His skin is cold under her gentle touch. Would they have survived if she had not taken Cornelis Mead’s threats to heart? Would he be there to kiss her swollen belly and hold her hand during the hardest parts?

Should she have waited for him to come, should she have trusted that his love for her would be enough?

Her finger trace his mouth, following the curve of his upper lip. She can feel his shallow breathe against her hand. Nothing last forever, but Mallory thought they would.

She does not want him to die. She does not want him gone. The realization so sudden it makes her hand still in surprise. He is all that is left of Ezra, all that is left of who she used to be. She does not want to lose that part of herself. She wants it back, she wants the life they could’ve had.

Colour is returning to his face, under her touch the life blossoms back into his features. She won’t be there when he wakes up, but she will keep an eye out for him.

The ocean will be calm again, the waves won’t be destructive forever.

Her eyes are closed when her lips fall upon his. An unfamiliar warmth spreads through her body when they connect.

It is not passionate, not romantic, Mallory doesn’t even really feel aroused by the idea of him being subjected to her. He can’t deny her anything now. But none of that really matters, because the sudden gasp he lets out makes her back away from him.

\--

Michael returns to the living with a gasp; he can still feel the ghost of her kiss upon his lips. The second thing he notices is the loss of weight against his chest. The locket is missing and he knows exactly who took it.

He coughs up water and ash, when he slowly sits up there is no one to be seen. And even though he is physically alone, Michael knows he no longer is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eruption of Krakatoa is the only reason why this fic has more than only the first chapter. It was about a month after I wrote the first chapter that I suddenly started to think about its eruption (as one does lol). And there it was, the idea of Michael witnessing the eruption was born. 
> 
> Krakatoa then located in the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia) erupted 26th of August 1883. It’s one of the biggest eruptions ever. The blast sent shockwaves across the ocean, triggering tsunamis that destroyed the coast of Java and Sumatra. The sound was so loud it was heard 3000 miles away. (it’s one of the loudest sounds ever created on earth as well.) 
> 
> If a mortal would be as close to island as Michael was their eardrums would be shattered.  
> The eruption not only killed a whole lotta people (36,417), it also changed the global temperature. It dropped by 1.2 Celsius that year. 
> 
> Around May Krakatoa’s explosions indeed could be heard in New Batavia (aka Jakarta).  
> \--  
> Thank you for reading! This chapter was super angsty and I enjoyed writing it a lot! Next chapter the flame to this slow burn will be (finally) ignited.


	6. vi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael knows he should turn around now, walk away from her and all the hurt she brings him. But instead of doing anything at all, he freezes. All the thoughts of running away gone, when she orders him with her finger to come to her.

\--

[Mallory the siren](https://nuke-em-from-orbit.tumblr.com/post/186754763846/fan-art-for-stupidocupido-s-sirenmallory)

\--

* * *

 

Mallory wants to feel human, Mallory wants to be anything but.

She is not the only one, there are a lot of them with the same wish. Many wish to escape all that humanity brings. There are so many ways to escape unwanted feelings, some healthy and some unhealthy. To Mallory there is no difference between healthy and unhealthy, all that matters is that it works.

Pleasure, it’s the age of hedonism and art deco. Mallory likes how humanity is growing and evolving into this more carefree species. It reminds her of working until the late hours in her parent’s pub. To nights spend laughing about drunk ramblings and where the customers helped them clean up.

It reminds Mallory of her and Ezra dancing around their small living room to the sound of her voice. There were moments in her human life she was without a care as well. Moments where there were no negative feelings, where skies were cloudless and she had forgotten that storms exist.

It’s part of being human, Mallory guesses. To refuse to think about bad things when they’ve had happened. Happiness needs to be destroyed before they realize it was there. After pain all there is left is the nostalgic want for what no longer can be.

You don’t know what you got until it’s gone. That much is true, but for Mallory it works quit the opposite. Feelings had to return to her for her to realize she had been without them for a long time.  

She no longer is who she used to be, but sometimes it feels like she’s growing towards it once again. Mallory is not sure if she thinks it as a good or bad thing. There are parts of her younger, human self she always had liked. She had prided herself on her gentle heart and compassionate nature. But she also loved the ruthless murderous being she had become.

Pleasure, everything that is forbidden tastes better. Give a child candy and it will play with the wrapper, hold it above its head and it will jump for it.

Every age knows dreamers and explorers. The fastest way to the East, the easiest way to make coin, golden promises in a ‘new’ country.

Her dress shimmers in the dim light of the underground club where humans drink moonshine until they fall down to the ground.

Mallory does not blame them, things taste better when they are forbidden. She pretends to be seduced by the man who can’t stop staring at her breast. Hunting in this era of evolving humanity is as easy as it was in the past.

Humans might change, but their cores never do. 

\--

After a war that had costed countless lives, people seem to have created the need to be consumed by life itself. It seems to the theme of this roaring era. More is not enough, everything is always scarce.   
  
Economically the country is on its peak. Money is spend in great amounts, plenty of cars drive around. Fashion is more daring, the people are louder. Humanity is constantly evolving, all that stays the same is that they die.   
  
Michael walks the streets of New York like it’s the first time he is here. In a way it is; the last time he was here, it was still called New-Amsterdam. Michael used to guide lost souls back then; he no longer does so. There is no ship for him to sail the oceans with, no crew to help him collect. No Mead to keep him steady.

People seem to forget about magic and myths. In a way Michael is pleased with it, but there seems to be no purpose for him in this world. He does not know what his father wants him to do now; is it distinguishing all the evil on earth? Or is he planning something else for his only son?

Michael wishes for anything; everything and even nothing. Maybe there no longer is a purpose for him, maybe he is just waiting for his time to come.

He wouldn’t mind dying, nothing is made to last for eternity. The only thing Michael can wish for is it all to stop. Or for there to be suddenly a new purpose. The last thing seems very unlikely to happen. So all that there is for Michael is to wait for the first thing to happen. And only when he numbs himself he can stand the heavy weight that comes with being timeless.

They have forbidden everything that creates the feeling of being numb. So Michael must find it in places forbidden itself now.

The cousins Jack and Charlie owe him something, so it is easy to find his way into their small speakeasy.

It must come as a surprise to see her sitting there, surrounded by men who want nothing but her attention. But it is not, she has a tendency to pop up when he is on his lowest. There is a cigarette balancing between her thin fingers. She blows the smoke into the air when she sees him, a pleased smile appears upon her face.

Michael knows he should turn around now, walk away from her and all the hurt she brings him. But instead of doing anything at all, he freezes. All the thoughts of running away gone, when she orders him with her finger to come to her.

\--

The death of Krakatoa is nothing compared to seeing her again. Michael remembers the waves that had swallowed his ship when the volcano had exploded. He remembers the grey ash corrupting the sky for days, he remembers how the world had grown colder that year.

Michael can count the moments he had felt real fear on one hand. The eruption of Krakatoa had left him without a ship and without a crew. He had felt truly lost back then, not understanding why he chose to let Michael live. (If he only knew the one who had chosen to spare him is in a way crueler than his father ever will be.)

Michael does not feel fear when he walks her way, excitement is the only thing that runs through his veins. He can still remember the last time they saw each other, the last time he had heard her voice. He had thought her to be a random Siren. Now he knows who he is facing.

Her admirers leave her when he joins her. He might no longer be a captain, but Michael still is a powerful being. His aura radiates enough power for simple humans to know he is danger.

She is wearing the necklace, his eyes immediately go to them. It’s a safer option than watching her face. She looks too much like Ezra, too much like the time he was still happy.

“What’s it like to no longer sail the ocean? Did you finally have yourself a nice bath?” Mallory her voice is amused. He looks up to her twinkling eyes, her mouth is curved to a lovely smile. Michael shakes his head, not caring about her little jest.

He watches how she inhales from the cigarette, blowing the smoke in his face after.

“Why don’t just you give back my necklace?” Michael is not interested in the bait she is holding in front of him. He is not in a mood to play her foul game, it will only end up in him losing.

“Why don’t you just give up getting it? It always ends up with me anyway.”

Stubbornly Michael looks away from her too amused face. He does not like it that she has the upper hand.

They’re silent for a while, watching the humans get loose. Michael follow her gaze. She is watching a young couple. The boy tries to seduce the girl, but he is not really good at it. The couple reminds him of the time he had tried to seduce her.

“Did you ever romance other people?” She tears her eyes away from the couple to watch Michael instead. “Or were you too hung up on me to do so?”

Michael is offended by her words; is she really thinking she is the epitome of his existence?

“I was busy raising our son, while you were doing whatever you foul creatures do. Isn’t it tiring to only have one purpose in life?” He bites back. Now it is her turn to be offended. “Well, if you handled rejection better, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. We only spend one night together Michael, it isn’t my fault you so easily fall in love.”

“Are you saying you weren’t as bad? ‘ _Oh_ _Michael_ , I am counting the days for you come back to me,’ as I recalled you were even crying.” His pitiful attempt to sound like her fails, but his mocking words hit where he wants them to hit.

She looks away from his face, her cheeks coloured pink with embarrassment.

“Well, you did give me enough reasons to cry, yes.”

Michael takes her drink from the glass table that is standing between them. He swallows the last of the strong liquor.

“Will we ever not hurt each other?” Michael looks up from the empty crystal glass. He expects to see hatred in her eyes but all her emotions are carefully stored away.

“Maybe in time we will learn to be kinder.” Michael is not sure if his answer could be ever become the truth. But he wishes it to be, he does not want her in his life in a negative way. But if that’s the only way he can have her, he will accept it nonetheless.

She does not give him an immediate answer, she lights up another cigarette first. Not offering him one.

When she speaks, the tone of her voice is almost bitter.

“Time is all we have, after all.”

\--

They walk the street side by side in an uncomfortable silence. Michael is staying at one of the cheaper hotels at the edge of the city. He does not ask her if she’s staying here somewhere. She probably doesn’t.  

She will leave him again, as soon as she sees water she will be gone. She probably only showed up to let him know she has the locket. Michael does not want her to leave, Michael does not want to return to a lonely numbness. So Michael does the only thing he knows that will keep her here.

“I will never forgive you for keeping Ezra away from me.”

She stops in her tracks. “And I will never forgive you for taking him away from me.”

Her voice is oddly calm in comparison with the fury that lays in her eyes. Michael guesses it’s a Siren thing. To make their victims feel at ease, even when they are about to be murdered.

“Why couldn’t you wait for me, Mallory? Why did you have to be selfish?”

Mallory acts so sudden he cannot defend himself. He does not really wish to do so any way, he hadn’t felt this much alive since he had lost his loved ones.

She pushes him against the brown bricks of one of the buildings they’re walking past. There are not much people on the street, but the ones who are, walk quickly away from them.

“How dare you to call me selfish? When all you think about is yourself and finding some stupid treasure you _also_ plan to use for yourself.” She of course is right, but Michael is too excited by the feelings that sweep through his body.

Her grip on him is strong, her hands wrapped around his throat feel dangerously like a real threat. Her teeth shine in the moonlight, he wonders if they are filled with venom.

“If I am this terrible, why don’t you get rid of me?” He looks her straight in the eyes now. They are so dark that he can see his own reflection in them. Michael wants to drown in them, wants to get lost in her revenge and thirst for blood.

“I could kill you now, rip your heart out and suck the blood from it. I can push my nails into your throat and pull your vocal cords from it. I can pluck out your eyes, tear your skin apart. And it wouldn’t mean a thing, you would just be another meal.” Her face is so close to his, she smells like blood and rotting flowers. He does not fight her, he feels very small under her dark gaze.

“Then do it, kill me. Do it right now. This might be the only chance you have.”

There is hesitation in her dark eyes, she pushes his head harder against the brown bricks.

“Do it, Mallory. We both know it’s what you always had wanted. Kill me, _Mallory_ , end me for once and all.” The tone of his voice is almost taunting, he is sure she will do it now.

They look each other in the eyes, Michael is glad her face will be the last thing he sees. The moment does not last long and when she leans into his face; Michael closes his eyes.

\--

She can feel his pulse beneath her fingers, his blue eyes are filled with nothing but acceptance. He really wants her to do it, he knows she can. And she should do it, rip his heart out and eat it. Or she should just leave him and his pathetic wish to die.

But neither options is what she truly desires. His eyes close when she reaches up to touch him. Not to kill him, but to do something much worse.

Mallory let’s out a sigh when her lips touch his. She thought she had forgotten how they felt, but they feel so familiar it surprises her. A surprised sound comes from the back of his throat, but Michael does not act upon his feelings. Instead Mallory can feel him lean into her kiss. His lips moving against hers, are deepening the kiss.

The kiss she gives him is gentle, meant to make the heartache go away. Not only her heartache she realizes when his hands go to her lower back to push her body closer against his.

Her arms are at the back of his head, forcing his face even closer to hers. Her breasts are pushed flat against his chest. That weird warmth she had felt when she had kissed him on the beach returns. Starting at her mouth, from there it spreads to her loins, heart, slowly creeping into her stomach.

What once was cold is now burning with want.

\--

About ten minutes later they find themselves into the dusty hotel room Michael rents. Michael blesses the one that decided corsets are out of fashion, because getting her naked is easier than it was during their first time together.

With their clothing lying on the floor, Michael falls to the white sheets of the bad mattress with her on top of him. Every moment not spend touching her is wasted. They’re kissing again, soft pecks on the lips and rough clashing of teeth. Her hands are cupping his face, her body grinds down on his.

He is breathless when they part, his skin is burning against hers. Michael is aware of every part of his body that touches hers.

Her hair falls in his face when she leans up to look down on it. There is a mischievous glint in her eyes when she opens her mouth to speak.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier, did you romance other people?” Michael rolls his eyes when the words leave her mouth.

She falls down next to him, she still has that teasing glint in her eyes. “I bet I was all you thought about. Do you want to know if I thought about you as well?”

Michael smiles, he leans into her small frame to kiss her again. He pushes her on her back, both his hands are placed upon her ribs.

“Are you asking me if I thought about this?” His hand cups her left breast. His thumb circles over her hardening nipple, pinching it before he leaves it again. Mallory let’s out a gasp.

“Or thought about this?” His hand goes lower and lower, until it stops between her legs. He traces her skin with a touch so light, he might as well not be touching her at all.

“Do you want to know if I thought about doing this?” He moves his hand down, pushing his fingers between her already damp folds.

“Yes.” She lets out, her hips moving up to his touch.

Michael kisses the skin beneath her navel. “All the time.” He admits. He cannot lie now, not now he is finally getting what had haunted him for so long.

He pushes her hips down with both his hands, making sure she can’t move as he moves down to taste what is between her legs. He loves how she moves against his face; loves the little sounds she makes. He loves how she tastes and he loves how she feels.

He loves everything about it, to the way she fists the sheets and shouts his name when she comes.

\--

He falls on his back, his face is still wet with her arousal. She crawls on top of him to kiss him. Her body moves against his in a way it tells him she will be the one to call the shots.

Michael is so aroused, his hips move up to hers without his permission. Almost as a reflex she grinds down on him, Michael can feel his stomach get wet when she moves on it.

Michael watches how her right hand wraps arounds his cock to guide him inside her. He lets out a shaky breath when she sinks down on him.

Of course Michael did have sex with other girls, of course there were others after Mallory. But nothing compares to being with someone you love.

She waits with moving until she is fully adjusted to him. Did she have someone else as well? Michael does not really want to know. And it does not matter, because the ones who were before this will always be just that.

She sets the pace, she is the one who decides what happens. Every movement, ever moment of pleasure lays in her hands. Michael slips in this role of being subjected to her like it’s not really a role he is playing. That probably is because it isn’t really a role; she is the one that is always controlling him.

She moans his name, and it’s the sweetest sound. Michael watches how she loses control on top of him. The light of the rising sun hits her body, she looks like the goddesses from the paintings. Something beautiful far away, something to be treasured when you have it close. The locket slaps against her skin at the same rhythm she fucks him. But Michael only cares about the way she looks down on him when she comes.

Michael no longer can take it, he wanted to give her a third one, but the aftershocks of her orgasm bring him to his own.

His fingers delve into her tights, her name spills from his mouth like it’s the only word in his vocabulary. She falls down on him, her body wet with their sweat.

Her face is pressed against his throat, the kisses she gives him are gentle. Michael feels vulnerable, but it’s not a bad thing.

“Why did you not wait for me?” Their bodies are still pressed together. His sentence was meant to sound strong and confident. Instead it comes out almost whiny.

\--

“I made you evil.” He cries out when she is done explaining. But Mallory shakes her head. “It always was within me. You cannot blame other people for things you did yourself. Just like you shouldn’t have expected me to be the good to your evil.”

Michael processes her words, trying to come up with an argument to make her see he made her vile. But Mallory is faster with her words than he is. “You can stop blaming this on your ‘ _evil’_ side Michael. You are not only evil nor only good. It was you who decided to kill me, it was I whose heart was dark enough for me to become what I am.”

“It is so easy to blame yourself for things that happened. If only I didn’t take Cornelis his threats to heart. If only I was convinced your love for me would be enough. If only you’d had taken the time to talk with me first. If only we never met that night.”

Michael still does not understand what she is getting at. “But I am the one to blame! I shouldn’t have overreacted, I should’ve trusted you.”

She grabs his arm with force, her fingers delve roughly into his skin. “Stop it, Michael. All those things happened, but the past cannot be changed. You just need to accept that your decisions have consequences. What ifs are only there to fool your brain into thinking there could have been another way. But things happen because they need to happen.”

They are both silent after that. Mallory feels oddly comfortable lying here with him. She no longer hates him, all the hate that once was there had flooded away with their son’s death. Mallory is not sure if she loves him. Naïve her did, even now she thinks herself stupid for doing so.

Maybe things would have been different if she weren’t pregnant. Time changes humanity, were Mallory to meet Michael in this era it would be another story if she was not there when he returned. She tries to remind herself that as well; but still, she is embarrassed with who she used to be.

“Do you regret meeting me?” His insecure voice breaks the silence; Mallory does not answer him immediately. Would she done things different if she had the chance? Yes, without a doubt. But does she regret meeting him? If she had the chance would she avoid him? Does she truly want a live without him?

“No.” She answers him and herself.

And with all the heartache that comes with knowing him, he brought her so many good feelings as well. She can’t deny that and she never will.

In his arms she falls asleep, not thinking about what all of this means for their future.

\--

Michael looks down on her sleeping frame. He is fully clothed again, he is holding the necklace in his right hand. He leans down to drape the sheet over body.

He tucks the locket away in the pocket of his trousers. Leaving his lover behind; lonely but not broken. They will meet again, Michael is sure of it.

He just has to wait for her to find him again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The roaring twenties it is. I am afraid I don’t know much about that period of time expect from what was briefly mentioned in history class, before moving onto the great depression and second world war. 
> 
> Economically speaking everything is ‘scarce’. Bake ten breads and there is always an eleventh one who wants to have two. The twenties was interesting to dive into; especially reading some more about the ‘american dream’ that still so many people seem to have! Isn’t it funny how first everyone wanted to travel east but now (from a European perspective) wants to travel west? 
> 
> Jack Kreindler and Charlie Berns are real people who used to own a speakeasy in Greenwich Village. Later they moved and the name of their speakeasy was called ‘Fronton.’ It still exists, it’s called 21 Club now. 
> 
> And yes, another Dutch colonial reference (lol). You still can see some of it back now. So are Harlem and Brooklyn English ‘versions’ of the Dutch cities ‘Haarlem’ and ‘Breukelen’. (The Dutch traded ‘New Amsterdam’ with the English for Suriname) 
> 
> Also, check out the beautiful drawing of Mallory I put above this chapter. This gorgeous work is made by the very talented nuke-em-from-orbit. It's everything I vision her to be! 
> 
> I hope the smut was okay! I was not in a mood to make it too ‘porn’, so sorry for that. (Otherwise this chapter would never been posted lol, writing smut really is so boring sometimes. Angst is so much easier to write haha!)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. vii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shakes Michael from his sleep, a sure feeling in her stomach. Michael is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but her words are enough to wake him up completely.

Michael lies in a field filled with wild flowers somewhere in northern England. He watches a sky coloured in a blue that matches with his own eyes. There is a plane flying over, the roaring sound disturbs the peaceful silence Michael likes to surround himself with. It’s off to fight another world war.

The sun warms his skin, it might be one of the last nice days of September. His eyes close when the sinking sun shines in them. How many sunsets had he already experienced? Is there a thing as too many sunsets?

How many starry night skies has Michael see come up and come down? Enough to have count every star in the sky, probably.

All stars will eventually cease to exist.It seems so natural for it to be always there, but in a billion years it no longer will be. Nothing is made to exist for forever, Michael wonders why he thinks he is. He does not age, at least not physically. Just because he grows very old, does not mean he will be like this for forever. Even stars have to die, and Michael does not think he will be an exception.

Michael does not want to live forever, he does not want to have the luxury of eternity. He lived long enough already; what is there for him to explore. What is there for him to discover? He felt it all, he seen it all. His end will come. His hand goes to the golden locket. The stone inside is white again. The only thing that will go on forever is time itself, even when there is no one there to witness it.

He will end, his love will end as well. Maybe not now, maybe not even in a hundred years. But they must eventually end as well. Michael does not want to think about the other possibility.

Nothing is meant to last for forever; not even stars.

“Gotcha.” Her head blocks the moon, she is surrounded by said stars. Another timeless being, Michael wonders if she thinks the same way about forever as he does. He does not stand up, so she lies down next to him. “It took you long enough to find me this time.”

Mallory let’s out a scoff. “Only thirteen months. It took you five years to find me before this.” Michael rolls over to his side, he smiles to let her know he is only teasing her.

The only thing in his life that brings him joy is this game of tag they’re playing. But is it really a game when they both want to be caught? They never had the chance to have an ordinary relationship and they probably never will get the chance to have one. Maybe this cat and mouse game is all that they will ever have.

“Is this all we are meant to do? Find each other, fuck each other and then one of us steals the locket again.” Michael his smile is gone now. But hers had returned.

“Is there anything else for us to do?” Mallory her voice is joyous, but her smile fades when she sees his sour expression. Michael does not answer her. So she stays silent as well.

Her hands go to his neck, to take the necklace from him once again.

“What does the locket do anyway?” Mallory asks him. “Time travel, I don’t know how to activate it, I did everything the Anansi told me to do in his riddle.”

“Maybe you misinterpreted the riddle.”

Michael is offended by her words. It took him some time to figure it out, _yes_ , but he did figure it out. “No, I am sure I got it right.” He repeats the riddle the ancient spider told him so many years ago.

“ _For tears of a love not so lost will set you free._ ” Michael concludes. Mallory is silent for a while, thinking his words over.

“So it means that for it to work I need your tears.” Michael says when she stays silent for too long. She lets out a sigh, rolling on her back to watch the sky.

“You’re wrong.”

Michael keeps on watching here. “I am pretty sure I don’t have another love lost and-“Mallory cuts him of before he can finish his sentence.

“I did cry while wearing the locket. When… When he got Ezra.”

“ _Oh_.”

He falls on his back.

Michael is confused. For so long he was sure it was Mallory who was the final piece of the puzzle. But she isn’t? Was it all for nothing? Maybe the Anansi had lied to him; maybe the mythical creature never wanted Michael to find time. It makes sense, no being should ever possess that much power. Michael doesn’t really desire to travel back in time now, but still, Michael feels betrayed. Years he wasted on something that was never meant to be.

Michael bites his tongue, the forever guilt sipping into his mouth like venom. He is the one behind all his pain; he is the true murderer; he killed their son with his foolishness. His hand start to shake, the sky becomes blurry. He can’t breathe, his hands squeezes into fists, his nails push into the flesh of his palms. But her voice comes before the craziness does.

“Why do you want to travel back in time?”

The breath that was stuck comes out rushed. She is kind enough to let him recover from his internal panic.

“Because I wanted to forget about you.” Michael finally answers.

He can hear her shift again, but he does not have the courage to face her.

“Do you still want that?”

Her voice is so small, Michael no longer watches the dark sky. Instead he stares into her dark eyes.

“No, I never want to forget you. You were the first one to break my heart, but you were also the first one to love me in a way no one else had.”

She tries to hide her smile, but she fails miserably at it. “Okay.”

They watch the sky until the stars disappear. No words are spoken, until the sky turns a pale blue.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to forget about you either.”

\--

It’s the sixties and people long to be free. It’s the third time they met this year; Michael can’t really remember who is chasing who at this point. She is the one who’s wearing the locket now, but this meeting is not really about that. The movie playing on the screen is a western; a story about outlaws. Michael only went once to the movies before; he enjoys coming here a lot.

Humanity evolves and Michael is glad for it. If only he could evolve with it.

When the movie ends he kisses her cheek. Her skin tastes like salt, she smells like the ocean. Her hair wild, her eyes bright because the smile she wears. She tells him it’s the first film she ever saw. It amazes Michael, he thought they ran out of first times. But it seems like there is still so much for them to discover.  
  
Michael is maybe for the first time optimistic about the future. He lets her keep the locket, promising her he will find her soon enough for another first time.  
  
Three months later she finds him instead. She hands him the locket before she pulls him inside the theatre. And so it seems, even the seconds feel like firsts when it’s with someone you love. And no film truly is the same, when her laughter is more entertaining than the moving pictures.

In the evening when there are no clothes involved he dares to speak his mind.

“Why do we have to chase each other? Can’t we just stay how we are now?” Mallory looks up to his face when he speaks the words. And he is right, why should they continue this? Can’t they be each other’s purpose without a chase?

“We can and we should.”

Michael seems surprised by her words, surprised but pleased. “Does that mean that we are boyfriend-girlfriend now?” The tone of his voice is teasing.

Mallory laughs, hitting his stomach with a flat hand. “I am already regretting this.”

\--

It’s the eighties and they are in Los Angeles. Her wet hair is tight together with a pink scrunchy. She is wearing highwaisted jeans and a floral blouse. She turns up the volume when a song comes on she apparently likes. Michael drives the car down the coastline, he smiles when Mallory starts to sing along.

She told him this period in time might be her favourite. She likes the music and fashion this era brings, maybe it is also because she can experience all of it with him. And after the third movie that month, Michael finally dares to ask her the question that will change everything. 

He is driving them to the small apartment they’re renting. It’s outside the city, because that is cheaper. But it’s also because Michael does not really like living among too many people.

“If you could travel back in time, what would you change?” Michael starts. He’s been thinking more and more about time lately. He has not completely forgotten about his century old chase.

“Didn’t this movie we just saw proof that you should never mess with time?”

Michael groans, he looks away from the road to watch her. “But what if you could?”

“Will you watch the road please?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “We are immortal beings, I am pretty sure it will take more than me hitting a tree to kill us.” Despite his words Michael watches the road again.

Mallory laughs. “Maybe modern technology will be able to kill ancient beings like us.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“Technically you are a grandpa.”

Michael pulls up in the parking lot. “And you are technically a grandmother. Is that a grey hair?” Mallory swaps the hand that wants to touch her hair away.

They don’t immediately go to their bed; Michael made them frozen margaritas instead. Mallory is chewing on a chunk of ice that escaped the blender’s blades.  

“But would you, if it had no consequences, change time?” Michael is lounging on the couch, watching her expression with the intensity of a hawk.

Mallory does know why he is asking her this, she knows that he is growing restless. She knows the answer to his question, but she also doesn’t want to give him hope. But she can’t really lie to him, not when their life together is so easy.

“Maybe I’ll change time so Ezra would have lived longer.”

Michael sits up straight, he almost looks excited. And she hates him for it.

“We can make that happen, there must be something more to this locket.” He pulls the necklace that is tucked behind his blouse for her to see. The small oval is placed between his thumb and index finger. The white gem inside shimmers weakly in the light. “There must be something more to the riddle. We can work together, we can solve this.”

Mallory does not reject his idea, but she does not say yes to it either. She needs time to think about it. And so Michael gives her exactly that. He can wait for her to make up her mind, he is sure she will do so eventually.

\--

The late October breeze cools her skin, but her hand is kept warm by his.

The names written upon the grave are merely recognizable. It’s only because Mallory knows what they say, that she can still read them. When she tries to imagine her son’s face, all she sees is a vague shape.

There are no photographs, paintings or drawings of them. All that is left is the corrupted image she has inside her head. She is sure even that is not really how they looked like. Mallory does not cry, but Michael shudders out of sadness.

His tears fall quietly, she squeezes his hand to give him some sort of comfort. 

The sadness is there for Mallory, but it does not seem to get out. It’s buried beneath the facade she so carefully build up in the years.  
  
Isn’t Michael supposed to be the good thing in her life? Her life is not bad; in every era she lives she’s surrounded by lovely people. She rarely feels alone nowadays. If it aren’t the humans she will have temporarily in her life, it’s her fellow Sirens who understand her.  
  
And she has him. She is not alone, she should be happy. But she isn’t.  
  
Sometimes it all feels so superficial. As if she is mentally preparing herself for it to be all over in the blink of an eye. It is something that comes with losing people you love? The realization that nothing is meant to last forever? But she is meant to last for forever; so why should things like that bother her?  
  
Maybe that exactly is that, when she looks forward there is no end. Mallory is not sure if she is frightened by it or feels stronger because of it.   
  
When she still was able to die, death made her realize that nothing really can be taken for granted. And she truly does not take the moments of happiness for granted, but they often feel not real. Or maybe she just does not feel them deeply anymore.  
  
Is it something that comes with being a Siren? To only feel things superficial? Or is it something that Ezra took with him to his grave? Her ability to feel and care deeply, all that what once made her Mallory. It’s gone now, or so it seems.  
  
There are no tears, even when her love lets them fall freely.  
  
There is nothing really; no regret; no sadness. It’s all buried beneath the ache to only feel the highs. But aren’t the lows what make the highs worthy?  
  
Sometimes it feels like there are no real highs and no real lows. If her life right now was to be described; it would probably look like the flat line that shows life no longer is there.  
  
She cares deeply for Michael; she really does. In the years they found and lost each other she cared more and more for him every time they found each other. And even when they decided to stay together, the love never disappeared.  
  
But it never feels like it did before.  
  
He squeezes her hand now. She looks up to his face. His eyes are shining with tears, it makes the blue look even brighter.  
  
It seems that even in the grey of her existence, Michael seems to bring the bright colours.  
  
Her smile is sad, but Michael seems to get some strength from it. His tears no longer fall.  
  
They leave the graveyard in silence. Silence is all that seems to be appropriate right now. With his cheeks wet with sadness and Mallory’s dry with repression, they leave this place of remembrance for the last time ever.  
  
They don’t know it yet, but they will never return here.

\--

Everywhere she can smell the salt that comes from the canals. She does not want to think about it, but without really wanting to, the memories from then resurface. They don’t hid her as sudden as they used to hit her, but they hid her nonetheless.

She cannot close her eyes, it will only make her see the in his blood covered stones. Michael is sleeping, so she holds him to not have to feel the echo of Ezra’s dying weight in her arms.

His heart is beating against her ear, she tries to only think of that sound. All, so she does not have to think about a heart that used to be lively.

Something is burning in her throat; but Mallory refuses to let it out. Crying rarely works, because she always stops when she realizes she’s doing it.

Mallory is not alone, she never really is. But at this moment it feels like she is the last person on a dying earth. She does not want to feel lonely, she wants it to be how it was before.

She shakes Michael from his sleep, a sure feeling in her stomach. Michael is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but her words are enough to wake him up completely.

“I will help you solve it. I will help you find time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts in the 40’s and ends in the late 80’s. 
> 
> I put in a very subtle movie reference; but only because it was the movie I watched when I wrote that small part. 
> 
> Sorry for the late update! I really wasn’t flowing for me. At first this chapter was meant to be longer; but for the sake of myself I decided to split it up. So here you have a lot of fluff and established relationship. Next chapter will be the last (well there is also an epilogue) and it will be more adventurous than this update. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware, this chapters contains vore.

Mallory drowns in the black winter coat they got her. Her hands are still shaking because of the cold, even with them tucked away in gloves. She is not used to the cold, she probably never will be.

But despite the cold, she likes it here. This world seems to be deprived of all colours. The sky is grey, the earth is white. Snow falls from the sky, thick flocks that are sticking to her hair. There is much space between the trees, they are at the outskirts of a forest.

Mallory follows the footprints Michael left behind. He is only a few steps ahead of her. It is getting darker, but Michael apparently has hope that they soon will find what they are looking for.

She isn’t as sure as he is. They’ve been hiking through the frozen lands of Nova Scotia for most of the day now, but they still haven’t found what they are searching for.

Mallory bumps into Michael, she was too lost in thoughts to notice he had stopped walking. “It’s there.” Michael whispers, not wanting to startle it. Michael is vaguely gesturing towards a group of trees near them.

Mallory follows Michael to the trees, her eyes scanning their environment for other dangers.

It used to be human, but there is nothing left of its humanity. Hollow eyes follow the pair when they get closer to the tree it’s hiding behind.

Mallory lets out a disgusted sound when her eyes fall upon the Wendigo’s horrendous form.

They are in a way the same creature. Both were once humans, both now eat humans to survive. But where Mallory was privileged enough to keep her own appearance, they look nothing like they did before.

Its pale skin is wrapped tightly around its bones. It is as white as the snow that is still falling. She needs to breathe through her nose to not get sick from the smell that comes from it.

White blurred eyes stare her up and down. Its sockets are pushed back into its head, it looks like someone wrapped skin around a skull. The era around the mouth is dirty with dried up blood. It takes a step closer to Mallory, it doesn’t even seem to notice Michael.

Mallory is not afraid of it, she knows the two of them are strong enough to overpower the flesh eating creature.

Thin lips move from each other, to show a row of unmatched sharp teeth. A grey tongue slips out to lick away the old blood. 

“We are the same.” Mallory did not expect for the Wendigo to sound as human as it does.

“Yes we are.”

The creature moves closer to her, it stinks. Mallory can feel the cold it radiates in her bones.

“The same purpose we have yes, but our goals are different.” Mallory takes a step closer to it, wanting to know where it is getting at.

“Then what is your goal?”  Her head is tilted, despite its horrendous appearance, Mallory feels herself gravitating closer to it. She never met a creature that is so unlike and like her before.

But it ignores her question. Michael makes a humming sound, she can hear the creaking of twigs as well. It’s not just the three of them anymore, but Mallory needs to know more. They can’t give up now.

“What do you know of time?”

The Wendigo looks taken back by her question.

“Only that it is meant to last forever.”

Michael his hand wraps around her wrist. “Mallory, I think we should go.”

Mallory tears her eyes from the Wendigo, she watches how Michael scans their surroundings. Eyes are burning in the darkness of the woods, long limbs are carrying themselves their way.

“The same purpose we have, but our goals are different.” It says again. Mallory’s eyes find the Wendigo again.

“I can imagine. Thanks for speaking with us. We will leave now.”

“ _No_.”

The tone of its voice is less human now. Mallory her eyebrows raise.

“Your flesh is warm, it will do.”

Its thin fingers reach for Mallory, but she saw it coming. She grabs the hand, tearing it from its arm.

“I was not planning to end up as a meal, thank you very much.”

She jumps for the creature before it can attack again. She knocks the cold being to the ground.

Her claws tear open its skin to reveal rotting flesh and a cold heart. The Wendigo is struggling beneath her. It takes one smooth movement to remove its head from its body.

When she moves from the Wendigo to ask Michael what they should do now, she’s surprised by the way he looks at her. He seems almost turned on by their little fight.

“Wow, Mall, that was really hot.”

She wants to curse. Is this really the time to get horny? 

“Michael!”

He looks not as guilty as he should have felt. He looks away from her instead. They are surrounded by maybe fifteen creatures. There are too many of them to fight, they do not stand a chance. “Mallory, run, we must run!”

And for once she immediately does what Michael tells her to do.

Mallory is sweating in her coat now, there is nothing left of the cold she felt earlier. The Wendigo’s are fast, but luckily they are fast as well. Michael is the first one to spot the cabin, the tone of his shouting voice is filled with fear.

They run as fast as they can towards the cabin. Michael pushes to door open, Mallory closes it when she slips behind him inside. She is fast enough to only see a small glimpse of the creatures hunting for them.

Michael is still trying to catch his breath. His cheeks are coloured red because of it, his hair is a mess. Mallory pushes her back against the wooden door, trying to ignore the scratching sounds against it.

“I don’t think Wendigo’s cry, Mall.” Michael, despite the situation they’re in, still manages to be sarcastic. Mallory does not know if she wants to kiss or hit him for it.

“Well, now we know for sure.” Mallory should’ve known it was stupid to search for Wendigo’s. But they had to try something after the Anansi had refused to answer their questions.

After Mallory had told Michael she would help him find time they had traveled back to the island she was born. Mallory had proposed that maybe they should meet with the Anansi again. But that mission was not a fruitful one. When they faced the Anansi, it had only repeated the riddle it had told Michael years before.

So maybe they both had misinterpreted the riddle. What if sirens aren’t the real keys? Maybe Michael had been too focused on the ‘lost love’ part to think about the other possibilities. There are plenty creatures who consume humans to survive. Who was to say it was supposed to be Michael’s lost love? They’re not the only ones who can love.

And now they’re here, trapped in a small cabin, surrounded by Wendigo’s hungry for their flesh.

“They must have weaknesses!” Mallory cries out when the scratching becomes louder.

Michael walks up and down, his hand placed against his mouth. “I’ve read about them… I only can’t remember what it said.”

Mallory shudders, now she no longer has to run, she is getting cold again. “You better remember it fast Michael. If they won’t kill us, the cold will. I wish we had a fire or something.”

“That’s it! Mallory you’re a genius! Fire kills them!”

Michael blows the door open with his magic. Mallory is hiding behind him, watching how fire burns the already dead bodies. By the time they’re no longer surrounded all the snow had melted and the sun had started to creep its way up in the sky again.

When they arrive at the airport later that day they get a lot of weird looks. Mallory’s coat is shredded and Michael is exhausted from having to use his magic as much as he did.

And that’s how they leave the cold lands of Canada, smelling of fire and filled with a desire to stay away from the cold for as long as necessary.

\--

“Something smells fishy here.” Michael is amused, Mallory is anything but. Her hair is still wet, she smells like the rain that is pouring outside.

Mallory drops a slimy grey object on the table. It knocks the beer Michael was drinking over, it wets his jeans. “Oops, I am so _clumsy_.” Michael is even more amused now, the nostalgic feeling that washes over him only brightens his mood more.

He studies the tentacle she dropped on the table. “Aren’t Kraken’s supposed to be bigger?”

Mallory let’s herself fall down to the chair on his right.

“Oh it was big, this was one of the smaller ones I was able to take it before it almost fucking choked me.”

Michael lets out an amused snort. “How can _you_ choke underwater?”

“I don’t know Michael. I still don’t understand why I had to find it. Aren’t Kraken’s supposed to be the faithful animal sidekicks to evil pirate captains?”

“I wish!” Michael laughs again, this causes Mallory to throw the slimy tentacle towards his face.

“Michael, I am done chasing mythical creatures. The Pulgasari made sense, but a Kraken?”

He sighs loudly after her words, she does not care for his annoyance. Mallory is not done complaining. “We should’ve known it was useless after the fiasco that was Nova Scotia!” Michael opens his mouth to interfere, but Mallory cuts him of.

“I am pretty sure the riddle meant Sirens, I think that old spider was just messing with you.”

“Maybe we should find another creature who can tell us more about time?” Michael says when Mallory finally gives him space to talk.

After an hour of more plotting, spilled beer and arguments it’s settled. They will travel to Egypt to speak with another ancient being.

He kisses her after she ordered them a last round of drinks.

“You don’t taste fishy.”

He pulls her closer before she can push him away.

\--

In Giza they meet the Sphinx. It promises to give them answers, if they solve its riddle. Michael almost wants to turn around, he is done with riddles and trying to solve them. But Mallory her hand upon his lower arm makes him stay.

Michael stares into its amber coloured eyes. It’s covered in sand, with its golden skin the half-lion is almost disappearing in the Sahara.

“What is that which has one voice and yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed?”

Michael bites his lip, annoyed by another riddle he has to solve. Don’t these creatures have anything else to do? What kind of foolery is this? But before he can complain, Mallory speaks for him.

“ _Man_.” The Sphinx only nods, Michael turns to watch Mallory dumbstruck. “ _What_? Oedipus solved this riddle ages ago, those mythical creatures really can’t come up with new stuff huh?”

“Go to where punishment is served, it’s where ancestors are found.”

Michael almost attacks the lion like creature. It had promised answers, not another riddle! But Mallory pulls Michael away from the Sphinx. “I know where to go. I can’t believe I never thought of this before!”

Michael is confused by Mallory her confident tone. “Thought of what before?”

“The original Sirens of course!”

\--

It’s where all banished creatures go. A pit filled with souls that no longer can be saved. Chewed out, covered in bruises and spit, everything that didn’t have the taste beings liked them to have is dumped here.

Mallory watches the ocean greet and part from land over and over again from their hotel room. They’ve been here for two days now, Michael was gathering information. Mallory wanted them to just be _them_. It’s been long time ago that it was just about them, and not the goal that had dominated their lives for so long now.

Mallory wonders how much of their relationship is about them nowadays. All that seems to be on their minds is to find time. To change everything so they can hold their son again. But what if they don’t remember why they came back? What if they fall back in their old patterns, what if time can’t be changed?

She sighs, her arms are hanging outside the window. Her skin lights up golden in the setting sun. She likes the island, Elba does not look like a prison to her.

Mallory closes her eyes briefly, for them to open again when she feels Michael’s arms sneak around her waist. His chin is resting upon her shoulder, his eyes find the ocean as well.

“What are you thinking about?”

“The past, the future, us.”

Michael his arms tighten around her waist. “What about it?”

“What if we forget about this, about us? I don’t know if I can handle that, Michael.” Mallory places her hands over Michael’s. Leaning into his embrace.

Michael pushes his lips against her throat. His kisses calms her down a little, but not enough to forget completely about it. He senses her worry, he leans away from her. A small smile playing on his lips when he watches her.

“Let’s do something fun. I think we deserve it.”  

They end up at a beach bar. Dancing to acoustic music among other couples.

“I don’t want to live forever.” His voice is so quiet, that Mallory needs to lean closer to hear him. She knows he doesn’t, she knows he does not like the life they live. He does not want to leave her, but he wants to leave his life.

“I know, Michael.”

Mallory rests her head against his shoulder. With her eyes closed she lets Michael lead them. It feels like it is just them, the music and the ocean.

Tomorrow they will try to find the first Siren, but now nothing else matters. Maybe that is how it should’ve been. They never should’ve searched for time. She shouldn’t have chased him for so long. She should’ve waited for him when she still was human.

Mallory does not want to think about what she should’ve done. She might never will get the chance to change it. Isn’t it awfully useless to think so much about what could’ve been different? Are they too weak to accept that life does not give you everything you long for? Or are they strong for wanting to find a solution?

Or are their dreams supposed to be just that? Dreams, something to want but not something they should get.

What if this is their last dance? What if she will not love him like she does now?

They stop dancing, Michael his hands are resting on her shoulders. She looks up to his face, not wanting this dance to end.

She does not need to say the words, he sees them in her eyes. She moves up to kiss him, deciding if this indeed is their last dance, it should be the best one.

“Let’s dance some more.”

She takes the lead now.

\--

“This should be the last one, Michael. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it is time for us to accept that we have to move on.”

They’re standing in front of the cave where one of the first Sirens lives. The people living her avoid this place. Michael figured it must be where the creature is hiding.

Michael reaches out to her hand. “It will be. After this our hunt is over.”

“Did you bring weapons?”

“Yes, I brought my gun.”

Mallory her eyes fall upon Michael’s belt. “Well, let’s go then.”

She is leading them through the cave’s dark tunnel. As if she know where to go, as if she is sensing something Michael is not.  The tunnel is long, they must be walking for over an hour now.

“We’re getting close. Can you hear it?” Mallory stops, putting her finger up in the air. Michael stays silent, trying to hear what she is hearing.

It is faint, but even the echoes of the voice are beautiful. The voice is calling him, telling Michael to come and get it. Your heart’s desire, the voice promises it will be found when you find its source.

Weren’t it for the fact that Mallory already is everything he had ever wanted, he would’ve started to run for it by now.

Mallory does not seem to be as affected as he is, maybe it is because she is one of them.

The closer they come, the more entranced Michael gets by the voice. Mallory needs to squeeze his hand painfully hard for him to not wander away.

When they finally find the source of the voice, they both are surprised with what they find.

The original Siren looks nothing like Mallory. It is half human, half bird. The head is human. It has long blonde hair, fair skin and big dark eyes. She possesses the beauty only ancient beings like them can have.

Her wings are as gorgeous as her face. The feathers match with her golden hair. It’s so shiny that Mallory wants to get closer to examine. Her claws, however, are sharp and dangerous. The Siren finishes her lullaby when she spots them.  

Her thin lips curl into a sinister smile. The sudden silence is unnerving.

Michael his hand clamps around Mallory’s arm, making sure that she does not wander away from him.

“Mallory.” Her brown eyes fall into Mallory’s. The smile she gives her is not an unkind one. Mallory does not ask the Siren how she knows her name.

“So you finally found your way to me.”

Mallory nods, taking a step closer to the creature.

“What’s your name?”

“Cordelia.”

She studies her for a moment, trying to figure out Cordelia’s intentions. She does not seem eager to attack them, even when they were lured by her song.

“It’s an honour to meet you. I hope you can give us wisdom.”

Cordelia is silent for a while, her eyes keep staring into Mallory’s. Mallory tries not to blink, maybe she is testing her.

“You strayed away from your purpose, child.”

“Am I not allowed to choose my own path?”

Cordelia acknowledges Michael for the first time now. “Love is not a sin, but it makes us weak when it is wasted on the wrong ones.” Her eyes carry something dark for the first time now. She does not look pleased to see Michael.

“I want to give my love to the right ones, that’s why we are here.”

Cordelia tilts her head. Mallory grows hopeful when she sees something soften in her ancestor’s eyes.

“I only need a tear.” Mallory exclaims, it surely isn’t that much to ask for.

“I can give you what you want, you just need to come closer.”

Mallory is hesitant, she looks at Michael, but he shakes his head.

“Come to me, let me give you purpose again. I am your family, _your_ _mother_. You can trust me, you are home now.” Her voice is so warm it makes Mallory feel as if she is coming home for real.

Mallory is enchanted by her, there is something very similar in the way the woman holds herself. She can feel her energy, not much unlike her own. Mallory takes a step closer, only looking at her face. She does not notice how her claw twitches. But Michael does.

“Mallory, no!” Michael moves forward, pulling her away from the Siren. But it is too late, Cordelia’s claws slash through the air. She cuts Michael open like he is made of butter. He falls to the ground, blood pours from the wounds.

Mallory screams, sinking to her knees to help him. Michael his hand goes to his belt, he pulls his weapon from it. 

Michael fires his gun before the Siren can attack Mallory. A lucky shot, the bullet pierces through the skin between her eyebrows.

Cordelia lies on the ground, her eyes empty of life. But Mallory no longer looks at her ancestor. The wounds are healing, but when she helps him stand up they open again.

“It won’t heal, there is something wrong.” Michael his hands automatically go to his stomach. Mallory feels herself getting sick. She is overwhelmed by the smell of his blood, her natural instincts are kicking in. But she swallows them away, she wraps one arm around his waist so he can lean on her.

“Please hold on, I’ll get us somewhere save.”

\--

His wounds reopen for the tenth time when she helps him upon the bed. Michael groans in pain, his hand automatically go to where he was cut. Mallory watches in horror how fresh blood pours from the wounds. His white shirt is drenched with blood. She has to take it off.

She cuts open the shirt, exposing the wounds. They are closing again, but they do not completely disappear. It almost seems infected, this is not a normal wound.

Mallory swipes the pus that comes from the wound away with a wet cloth. Michael his eyes are closed, his lips are tightly squeezed together, trying to keep the sounds of pain in.

“You have to kill me, Mallory. The wound will reopen again. I don’t want to die a slow death.”

“You are being ridiculous, we will find a way to heal you.”

Michael shakes his head. The wounds are opening again. Mallory knows he is right, but she does not want to face what this means. Stubbornly she tries to stop the bleeding.

“ _Mallory_.” His voice is soft.

“I don’t want you gone.” Mallory is close to crying, but Michael is oddly calm. “It’s too late, Mallory. Please, end it. I want you to do it. Only you.”

He coughs up blood after his sentence, Mallory knows he is right, it is too late. She leans in to touch his face. She wipes away the blood from the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.

It’s the only way, but she doesn't want it to be this way. _Nothing is meant to last forever._

He does not want to live forever, isn’t this the greatest gift she can give him? Can she be selfless enough?

When she kisses him her mouth is filled with his blood. He is teary eyed when she leans back to watch him. “You will be okay.” Mallory is not so sure of it, but she pretends he is right. “We will be okay.”

“I love you.” It’s the last time she will be able to tell him. It feels like she didn’t say it enough. “I love you.” She repeats, her hand is touching his chest. “I love you.”

Her claw cuts into his flesh, slowly she reaches for what she needs to eat to survive.

She can’t do this quick, can’t devour him like she does with others. His heart is beating in the palm of her hand. Blood streams down her bare arms, his eyes refuse to close. His heart is beating slow, _too_ _slow_. Her senses tell her to let him be, the meat is spoiled.

But Mallory is stronger than her senses. His smell ever sweet; always tainting her heart. She can pretend it is not hurting her to do this, she can pretend to be that same girl who always wanted what he is giving her now.

Her fingers wrap around the organ, they look at each other one last time. And then she pulls it out.

Steam is coming from his dying heart, his body falls on the sheets. His eyes are still opened, glossy and her favourite shade of blue. She will remember him, even if she will give in to the emotionless being she always should’ve been.

She brings the heart to her mouth.

It’s wet, warm and so _sweet_. A taste unlike anything she ever tasted before. And how could she, there is no one like him, no one to match with his uniqueness. She had half expected his heart to be black, but behind the immortality and magic, Michael is as human as everyone else.

\--

Her body is as cold as his. The taste of his heart still upon her tongue. Everything is covered in blood. The sheets, the floor, her hands, her face. Even the locket is dirtied by his blood.

Tears stream over her cheeks, down her neck. They keep falling until her eyes run dry and blood pours from them instead. Shocked Mallory her hands go to her face to wipe it away, but it’s too late. The pouring won’t stop, the immense sadness she carried for so long finally leaks its way out of her.

Mallory let’s out a pained cry when she feels something burn against her skin. The locket bites its way into her flesh like it’s made of acid.

Her mouth is opened to scream, but no sound comes out. She tries to pull the locket from her neck, but it’s melted against her skin. Mallory her fingers melt against the necklace, she never felt physical pain like this before.

Smoke twirls from her body, she falls down to the bed. Her screams are silent, her eyes fall shut. Slowly she burns away, still trying to get the locket off.

When the locket finally falls to the sheets, it’s shiny and clean of blood.

And all that is left of Mallory, is the smell of burnt flesh **.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, I promise the epilogue will make it better. 
> 
> There are many tales around the creature I started this chapter with. In some tales it’s said Wendigo’s are humans who ate human meat and so became those awful creatures. Wendigo's are 'common' to live in the northern forests of Nova Scotia and around the great lakes of Canada. 
> 
> Elba is the famous island Napoleon got banished to. I was listening a lot to the beautiful song ‘Queen of Elba’ by Laura Jansen while writing this. I had to include Cordelia in his story (bahah remember this fic is actually based upon AHS, because I don’t) Fun fact, the name Cordelia actually means 'jewel of the sea'. 
> 
> Pulgasari is a creature from Korean stories. It can be seen as their version of Godzilla. It’s a creature who eats iron. I actually wanted it to have a bigger part in this chapter at first, but writing has been hard, so I decided to settle for less, lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. ix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Darling, I'm waiting to greet you. Come to me baby."

When her eyes open there is a very weak light. The burning is gone, but she is still lying on a bed. It takes her some time to realize she no longer is in a bed that stinks of death. She no longer is covered in her lover’s blood, she no longer feels the urge to eat something that is made to beat. Her hands go to her chest to where the locket had burned its way into her flesh. The locket is no longer there, instead she can feel the bump of a scar she did not have before.

There are so many feelings; feelings and thoughts that can only be human.

Mallory sits up, finally scanning her surroundings. She recognizes the place immediately, it is her childhood bedroom. She can hear her father’s laughter coming from downstairs. His laugh louder than the voices from the customers. The sound alone is enough for her to want to cry.

Mallory feels herself getting sick, to breathe becomes hard. Did she travel back in time? Were her tears truly the only thing that was needed?

Without really thinking about it, her hands go to touch her stomach. But it is still flat. What period in time did she go? Is it before or after she had met Michael? Is this her chance to do things over? To make sure that certain things never happen?

Is this her chance to live a normal life? Can she even live a normal life when she still possesses the memories of an immortal being?

Mallory her thoughts are disturbed by someone who slams the door open.

She forgot how fearsome he was, how tall he was. She forgot how black his beard was and how much his daughter and grandson had looked like him. Cornelis Mead stands in the door opening as he did so many years before.

Her feet hit the wooden floor. He is taller, his blue eyes cold and calculating are staring into hers. She doesn't feel the fear she felt the first time this happened. Therefore she had changed too much.

And a lot has changed indeed, but the love she has for Michael never did. 

Mallory can remembers it clearly now, but she does not need to. He speaks the same words, threatens her with the same faith.

Mallory pretends to be afraid of him. She promises him to leave, to never see his devil captain again. A lie for which he falls so easily. The sobs she lets out fool the bearded man are enough for him to leave her without looking back.

She will kill Cornelis Mead when the time is right, but for now she has to be patient. In the months that are to come she has enough time to figure out how she will change the past she had never wanted.

She will see her love again, she will hold _the_ _both_ of them again. Her hands go to her stomach, knowing that it will take some time for her to feel Ezra again. She had been patient for so long, what are a couple more months?

\--  
  
Her folded hands are resting upon her swollen belly. Her feet are in the water, her eyes are focused upon the horizon. The sky is a very light blue, the ocean still calm.He kicks against her hands, as if he also knows his father is coming back. Maybe he is as impatient as his mother is. She cannot wait to hold them both again, she lived too long without them.

She watches the sky for what feels like hours, but when the sun finally rises, Mallory sees what she had been waiting for. A small dot in the shape of a ship appeared on the horizon. Her heart starts to beat faster, excitement runs through her veins.

All the memories of her past life are gone for a moment; all she remembers is the smiling golden boy who made her feel like no one else ever could. How she longs to see his smile not only in her memories, but to see his face light up for real.

There are many things that need to be taken care of when he steps ashore. Many things that need to change before she can work on a future she always had wanted for their son. But none of that matters, none of that is important now. She stands up when the ship is close enough for her to make out its sails.

And when his leather boots touch the land and his eyes find hers, time stops.

All that matters now, is that this time around it will be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sweet serial killer has a playlist. You can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/59GBE7MHmzzpjaZajp3Mtb?si=nx1usN3mRJOnZ0TLpfwTNw). Also, [here](https://weheartit.com/Futuristic/collections/158334046-sweet-serial-killer), you can find the weheartit collection I made for this fic. 
> 
> I’ve been planning this ending ever since I decided it was going to be more than just two chapters. It all comes back to the riddle, honestly. 
> 
> “Tick, tock, tick, tock, a race against the clock. Time is all you have, but it will never be enough. For immortality they all hunt, but only the ones with bitter on their tongue and blood in their stomach get what’s longed for. Find the treasure in what you ache to forget; find the sweet in the bitter. For tears of a love not so lost, will set you free.” (…)“Find a home that will cease to exist and you will find time. For everything burns, but only what spews hurts.”
> 
> Why didn’t it work when Mallory cried for the first time? Because she didn’t love him; the love didn’t come back until she saved him when Krakatoa exploded. 
> 
> It’s all about the “will set you free” part. Michael never wanted to live forever, dying is literally what set him free. But didn’t I undo that with this ending? Yes I did, this Michael is still immortal and won’t be set free. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who was so kind to comment, kudo and read this. This fic was my first Millory fic and I adored writing for it a lot. This story really allowed me to go ‘wild’ on plotting, research and putting dutch related stuff into a fic lol. 
> 
> Sad it’s over, happy it’s done. The ending is open on a purpose. Imagine whatever you want to happen. I might write some sort of sequel, but for now it's over. 
> 
> Thank you, again, for reading.


End file.
